Dance With The Devil
by misssixty1
Summary: "...He was death, she was life. And he had to have her..." Voldemort finds a girl who not only revolts him, but throws him into a whirlwind of emotions he didn't know still existed inside of him. Rated M for S,V, L. Heavy BDSM themes. *Chapters 1-9 rewritten as of 12/2/13*
1. Demons in the Night

**A/N: I DO NOT own any part of the **_**Harry Potter **_**franchise. I'm really excited to get to rewriting this story, it's one of my favorites!**

**Demons in the Night**

"Quick! Get your sisters, and get out of the house now!"

Billie's heart pounded in her chest as her mouth shook her violently, pulling her from under her bedspread and to her feet erratically. Even without knowing what was happening, the tone of his mother's voice sent her heart racing in panic as she glanced at her through wide eyes.

"Mom what is it?" she asked, her mother grabbing her body violently and pushing her towards the door.

"Just listen to me Billie! You get your sisters and get out of the house, and don't you come back." Her mother hissed, pushing her down the hall towards her sisters room. As she did so, Billie could hear the sound of voices from the downstairs, and her breath hitched in her throat, fear clutching at her tightly.

"Mom, don't leave!" she shouted, grasping at her mother as she made her way for the staircase. Her mother said nothing, pushing her back sharply before running down the stairs.

Dashing to her sisters bedroom, Billie threw the door open, slamming it behind her and looked around as she found her two young sisters, one three and the other seven cowering in the corner, expressions of panic written all over their innocent faces.

"Come on!" Billie said, rushing over to the two and grabbing Sarah, the youngest and the hand of Bethany.

Bethany opened her mouth and began to cry, sensing danger in the air and Billie grasped at Sarah tightly, putting a hand no her blonde head as the sound of many footsteps caught her attention.

Whatever was happening, the home invaders were making their way onto the second floor. Billie knew there was no way she could get the girls downstairs and out of the house, so, she thought quickly, grabbing them tightly and running across the room.

Throwing open the closet, she pushed them inside, setting Sarah down carefully as she wailed loudly.

"Stay in here, and be quiet. Bethany, make sure no one can hear her, do you understand me?" she hissed, before rearranging the clothes and shutting the doors.

Flicking off the lightswitch, she gasped as she saw the shadow of footsteps on the other side of the door. Quickly crawling beneath Sarah's bed, she pulled a pile of clothes in front of her, hiding her form listening carefully to the sounds coming from outside.

It was her mother's idea to spend the summer in England, taking a break from the chaotic bustle of New York City. She had described the potential trip a chance for the quaint and peaceful life, away from the chorus of honking taxicabs, the scent of sex and degradation, and the overall exhaustion from city life.

So far, the last few weeks had been spent exploring the beauty of Great Britain, taking in the glorious silence that had long been gone from their lives, and relishing the time together as a family.

The day ended like any other. Billie's mother had put the girls to bed and her parents prepared for a night at one of the local pubs. Billie sat down with a book, set on studying for her pre-law course when she returned to American to start her freshman year at New York University.

Then, all peace and tranquility was shattered with an explosion in the night, as lights of different color blazed within their rented home, and men masked in black robes that spoke loudly for their cruelty and malice.

Billie was jolted from her studies as she heard her father's voice from the downstairs, screaming in muffled tones before going silent. Panic rising in her chest, she waited until her mother came in and got her, telling her to grab her sisters and flee.

As she listened from under the bed, she closed her eyes, wondering if this entire ordeal was really a nightmare. Billie had always had extremely realistic lucid dreams. What if this was just another, and she was asleep peacefully in her bed while her parents enjoyed a glass of wine downstairs and her sisters played with their dolls?

But something told her she could pinch herself all she wanted, this was all too real. The dust gathering in her nostrils from beneath the bed told her that this, was in fact reality, a very dangerous reality.

"Please, we've done nothing wrong, I beg you! You were lied to!"

Billie turned her head sharply a she heard her mother cry out, her blood running cold.

The wife of a Desert Storm vet, Billie's mother was known for her resolve, staying cool under any kind of pressure. But now, even through and wall and under the bed, Billie could hear the desperation and fear in her voice, and she knew, that this was not something her mother would negotiate them out of.

"Foolish Muggle! You cannot lie to me." Hissed a shrill voice that turned Billie's ice to blood. Involuntarily she inhaled, holding her breath and tried to keep herself from screaming aloud at the words.

Even through her fear though, the term _Muggle _tore her attention from the possibility of her mother's death, and to the word that sounded so foreign, so unfamiliar.

Yet in all their unfamiliarity, a bell of disbelief rang in her head as she thought about the stories her parents told her years ago as a child, stories of wizards and witches living among them in secrecy, magical creatures, and spells and potions that could make everything alright.

As a child, Billie had relished these tales, sitting in her parents arms and finding freedom in the belief that somewhere in the world, maybe even right next to her invisible, were magical creatures.

Like every childish belief though, Billie grew up, she grew wise, and dumped her childish fantasies trading them for in for realistic practicality.

But now, she began to wonder, if everything about the practical and impractical she had come to learn was muddled about. There was no possible way that witches and wizards in the sense of true magic could exist. Of course there was Wiccan culture and religion, but _true _magical beings, like the ones her parents had told her about? It was simply impossible? Why? Because it simply _was. _

"I swear on my life, please, leave us be!" her mother cried out, and Billie raked her nails against the floor before crawling from out under the bed and rushing across the room, adrenaline coursing through her body. This could not be real, in any way shape or form.

Grasping the doorknob, she ripped the door open and made her way outside, running to the next room, which belonged to her parents.

Standing before her, were three men, wearing dark robes and masks that shot a jolt of fear through her. In the corner was a forth, more creature then man, hunched over with shredded clothes and mangy hair, caked with dirt and all sorts of filth she did not want to imagine.

In his arms, was Billie's mother, clutched tightly between his black fingernails, whimpering silently. As Billie watched, he grabbed one of her breasts, before sticking out his tongue and running it up the side of her neck, lewdly.

Forgetting the extent of the situation, Billie's temper flared as she stepped into the room boldly, chest heaving as rage coursed through her. Her mother was a proud woman, who stood for her beliefs as a Christian, and took pride in that fact that her husband was the first and only man to ever touch her. Her ideology constantly caused argument between her and Billie, but Billie admired the way she stood for herself either way, and watching her there, fondled carelessly in the hands of some beast, Billie lost all care and control.

"Take your hands of her!" she screeched, digging her fingernails into her palms and feeling crescent moons form beneath her fingers.

All eyes turned toward her, and Billie's mother gasped in horror, mouthing the word "_no_".

"And what do we have here?" a pretentious voice drawled behind one of the masks, turning toward Billie and staring at her in a way that made her twitch slightly.

"We should kill the girl first. It will that one a lesson about lying to the Dark Lord." Another mask spoke, nodding his head toward Billie's mother.

"What do you want with us?" she demanded bravely, stepping forward and hoping, just hoping, that if it came down to it, the men would take her life in exchange for her mother's.

At eighteen, she had lived a relatively decent life, free of the troubles that came with adulthood and the stresses that came with maturity. Do die now, would mean she led a good life, but more so than that, her sisters would still have a mother.

Billie had always adamantly believed that no parent should have to bury their child, but when it came to the lives of two innocent young girls, she knew they would be better off with a mother.

"I do not believe that is any of your concern girl." The first voice spat once more.

"Hurry this up, I'm starving, and this one is smelling might fine." The animal holding her mother growled, opening his mouth to reveal rotting teeth that lingered just near her mother's neck.

"W-wait! Please, take me instead. Kill me, just let her go!" Billie pleaded, silently praying to God for the first time in her life.

Suddenly, the room fell silent, and Billie's mother began to buck against her captor wildly.

"No! NO! Don't listen to her, kill me! Get the hell out of here Billie!" her mother cried, staring her daughter in the eyes.

"Don't listen to her! Kill me!" Billie shot back before one of the men stepped forward.

"Silence!" he bellowed, and Billie found herself unable to speak.

"You'll have your turn facing death." He hissed, before pulling out a brown stick and pointing it at Billie's mother. "_Aveda Kedavra!_" he hissed, and Billie watched a green light shot from the stick towards her mother, before hitting her square in the chest.

Her pleading eyes went dead, before she slumped to the ground, lifeless. Horror remained embedded on her face, and Billie began to hyperventilate, feeling as though a part of her had just been sheared off of her body. Suddenly, she felt hollow, empty, as though missing a limb, and unable to feel or think, she fell to her knees, face burning as tears pricked the back of her eyes.

The images began to flood her mind. Her mother, teaching her how to swing for the first time. Baking a pie with her. Getting the annoying abstinence lectures that always led to a fight between the two. The warm embraces that made her feel safe from the world. Her mother's lips, lingering on her cheek as she whispered "I love you".

"No. she croaked, leaning over and letting go of life as she silently pleaded to God to bring her death. Her mother was gone, she had just lost all sense of security in the world.

Shaking her head, she tried to still the memories, lips quivering as tears spilled from her eyes and ran down her face. Losing control, she let the sobs begin to wrack her body, listening to the sound of cackles around her and praying for death, to join her mother once more.

The unmistakable sound of something hitting the wall next door grabbed Billie's attention, and she felt herself pale, remembering the two young souls hidden in the closet next door.

"More Muggles Fenrir?" one of the men asked, and the shabby man lifted his nose, sniffing visibly before a terrifying grin crossed his face.

"Children." He hissed, dropping the body of Billie's mother to the floor and stepping past her, the smell of blood and old sweat wafting into her nostrils.

"No! No no no no no!" Billie wailed, forcing herself onto the ground and grasping at his filthy robes and clutching them tightly.

Her 130 pounds seemed to go unnoticed as he simply dragged her along the ground with his robes, throwing open the door the girls room and growling loudly.

"Please don't hurt them!" she pleaded, and he turned around, before yanking his robes from her grasp and shedding his clothing.

Thoughts of rape began to fill Billie's mind, before things took a different turn and the man's body began to shift, face elongating and bones cracking loudly.

Hair began to sprout on his skin, which slowly turned into a leathery hide covered in fur, and he grew taller, legs transforming into haunches, ears growing in length, and mouth forming into a muzzle.

Staggering backwards, Billie gasped in horror as before her very eyes, the man turned into a wolf, a werewolf to be exact, just like out of a movie it seemed. Opening the closet door with one of his paws, he tossed items of clothing inside, and the whimpers of two young girls grew louder.

Billie found herself frozen, unable to move, speak, or even breathe as she remained rooted firmly on the ground, watching as he pulled the two little girls out like little rag dolls, and threw them to the ground.

"Billie!" Bethany screamed, only to be silenced when he opened his large jaws, and sank his sharp teeth into her neck, blood spurting from the wound.

Sarah screamed, and he began to shake wildly, breaking her neck as blood continued to gush from her neck. Eyes rolled in the back of her head, she fell limp, and Billie watched as he tore his mouth away, flesh pulled from her skin along with muscle and sinew, which stretched out like some sort of goo.

"Come back here you." A hand grabbed her, and she felt herself being dragged, unable to do anything but watch Sarah's limp body as she was pulled back into other room where the rest of the men and her dead mother's corpse lay.

Falling to the floor unceremoniously, Billie closed her eyes, sinking into the carpet as she lay on her side, fibers from the carpet tickling her nostrils with each breath.

"Shame. Such a beautiful girl. Filthy blood." Someone said, pointing a wand into the back of her head so hard that it dug into her skin.

"_Aveda Kedav-_"

"STOP!"

The shrill voice pulled Billie from her stupor and she opened her eyes, sitting up and peering from long locks of her dark brown hair at the man who stood at the doorway, hand outstretched and red eyes upon her.

To say he was a man, would be stretching the truth, for as Billie sat there before him, she could find no human characteristics in his reptilian-like features. He skin was pale, white as a sheet and seemed stretched too tight over his thin body that disappeared beneath black robes. Looking up at his face, what Billie thought to initially be a case of Albinism, betrayed her as she set her eyes upon his disfigured face, absent of a nose it would seem, with thin lips and red eyes that seemed to belong to Satan himself.

"Is something wrong My Lord? I was disposing of the girl, she is the last one left." The mask behind her said.

The pale man turned upon him, as if mechanically and spoke in a soft voice, high-pitched and col.

"What reason have we to spill such…beautiful blood." He replied, before turning back to Billie, stepping toward her and extending a pale hand, thin fingers outstretched.

She shied away immediately, body tensing in horror.

"Just kill me." She shook her head.

If Billie were to make it out of this ordeal alive, what point would it serve, she wondered? In a matter of moments she had lost everything. Her parents, sisters, love and stability.

She had a few relatives back in the states, an uncle who was an alcoholic. Cousins who belonged to a Mormon sect. Family members, scattered across the United States with various problems rooted so deep that she had not seen them since her birth, if ever.

"Kill you? You do not fear death?" the pale man asked, cocking his head to the side quizzically.

"Death can be better than living." She responded, looking down at the ground and twitching as one of his cold fingers came in contact with her jawline, stroking the skin lightly.

His touch sent the sensation of licking a battery through her body, and she shivered, skin tingling as he retracted his hand.

"This…girl…will come with us." He said, looking around at the masked men in the room before leaving, his robes trailing the floor behind him.

"Can't wait to see what he has planned for you." One of the men said, lifting her up roughly and tossing her over his shoulder as he walked out of the room.

Stepping into the hall, they made their way past the bedroom of the girls, and Billie peered in as a dark figure looked up, eyes reflected in the darkness with the intestines of a small girl hanging from his mouth.

With a sigh, darkness took over, and Billie slumped over the shoulder of her captor, escaping into the world of unconsciousness, and delving into the deep black.

* * *

Lord Voldemort looked down, gazing intently at the sleeping form on the bed beside him, pale eyelids closed and framed by thick brown lashes. As her chest rose and fell, he studied her features. The bridge of her straight nose, her pink lips and arched eyebrows, rose cheeks and pale skin.

She was something to behold, with intoxicating beauty that seemed to pull him in, making its way into his mind and snaring him with long tentacles and embedding thoughts of kisses and her scent in his head. By far, she was the most beautiful girl he had seen in all his days, from every land he had been to, and every human he had ever seen.

Her skin glowed unnaturally, so pale that it almost matched his own, and long dark brown curls sprung from her head, fanning out on the pillow like a halo, a halo that belonged to an angel.

Cut off from humanity and free of human emotion and feeling, Voldemort found his newfound desire for this girl both an intriguing surprise, and disgusting habit that caused loathing to well within him. In his moment of glory, after taking the lives of those meddling Muggles, he found himself staring down at her with such strong desire he could not bear to see her killed, and in that, found a weakness in himself that he did not know existed.

He was horrified and appalled by his choice, but one look into her striking green eyes mesmerized him, and like a powerful spell, he found himself unable to harm her.

That night, when he stepped into the Muggle home, he felt nothing but loathing for the filth that resided there, the traitors who had revealed secrets of the magical world to fellow Muggles, and seeing the face of his beloved father as he always did around Muggles, sadistic bloodlust began to boil within him.

He had killed the man without remorse, staring upon his dead face with curiosity before making his way up the steps to check on his faithful Death Eaters, but in the midst of his desire to kill, one glance at the girl held the monster at bay, and he could not bring himself to do that which needed to be done, not even at the hand of someone else.

As Voldemort silently contemplated his weakness and failure, the monstrous snake he held in close confidence slid into the room, flicking her tongue out wildly and slithering against the hardwood floor to her master.

"Hello my dear." He hissed, feeling at ease in the presence of the creature who had become the closest thing he ever had to a friend.

Flicking out her tongue in excitement she hissed, glancing up at Voldemort with eager eyes as she silently hinted at the meal on the bed.

"No Nagini, she is not for you." Voldemort said with a smile, turning back to the girl and ignoring the questions from his companion.

Leaning forward, she grabbed one of her curls, bending over and inhaling the sensual scent of amber that caused him to shudder wildly.

Despite the paleness of her skin, she radiated heat like nothing he had ever felt before, and for the first time in a long time, Voldemort found himself in sinful proximity with a woman.

The amber scent wafted from her hair and off her body as well, rising from the smooth white skin that Voldemort longed to touch and feel. Her long neck was tilted slightly, and he could not help but gaze at her throat lustily, wanting to feel the steady beat of her pulse.

Several sharp raps at the door suddenly drew his attention, and Voldemort stood up, walking across the room and throwing the door open to find himself face to face with Bellatrix Lestrange, dark hair piled on top of her head messily.

"I did not summon you." He hissed angrily at her, knowing her true meaning for being there. The woman's irritating infatuation spurred her faithful devotion, and while Voldemort certainly considered her an incredible asset to his followers, outside of her magical talent and the work she had done, he felt nothing but loathing for her.

The way she gazed upon him with wide doe eyes, he could hear the thoughts running through her head that she made no attempt to hide. She was weak in her foolish infatuation, acting more like a prepubescent girl around him than the killer he wanted and needed.

"Yes My Lord, I simply came to see if you would like me to take care of the body of the young woman." She licked her lips, eyes shining with admiration that made his blood boil.

"I have no intentions of disposing of the girl's body, as I have no need for your intolerable appearance before me. Leave, before I lose my patience." He hissed, watching in satisfaction as Bellatrix colored a nasty shade of red, rejection climbing into her very veins.

The arrogance slid off her face like melted butter, and without a word, she bowed her head before departing, leaving Voldemort to his two pets.

Closing the door, he turned to the sleeping form on the bed, eyes still closed as she slumbered deeply.

As he continued to study her, he let his eyes move from her face, to the curvy hourglass figure outlined by her clothing. She had large breasts and wide thighs, with a slim waist and flat stomach that brought thoughts about in Voldemort's mind that he had not thought about in a very long time.

She looked so pure and innocent, yet her luscious body spoke a different story, and he found himself resisting the urge to peel her clothing from her skin and gaze upon her nude body, studying her pink nipples and silky skin.

In essence, with her dark beauty, she reminded him of the Greek goddess Persephone, lover to Hades, God of the Underworld. Voldemort had never been one to bother himself with Muggle traditions in religion, but he would never forget some of the things he had learned as a child, and Greek Mythology was one of them. He was intrigued by this God of the Underworld, who harbored the souls of the damned and gaze himself over to a beautiful woman, from a different world.

He did not believe in love, but he certainly believed in the power of desire, something he had dabbled with as Tom Riddle, and considered a weakness.

Sex had brought down men and wizards alike, clouding their judgment with thoughts of the heaven between a woman's legs, and Voldemort believed himself above human emotion and desire, but staring upon this girl, he silently looked upon her as his Persephone, beautiful Goddess of the above, and himself as Hades, Lord of Death.

He wanted her, and Lord Voldemort, always got what he wanted.


	2. Repulsive Beauty

**A/N: I DO NOT own any part of the **_**Harry Potter **_**franchise. **

**Repulsive Beauty**

Billie opened her eyes slowly, lashes sticking together with sleep as her eyelids fluttered, opening to the world around her. Staring up at the hazy darkness above her, she opened her mouth, her body light as she teetered on the fringe of consciousness. Grabbing for the world, she felt her body try and pull her back into the beautiful dream world where promises of milk and honey lay. And with everything she had, Billie wanted to succumb, she wanted to give herself over to sleep and let dreams take over as she lived in the world of fantasy, forsaking reality.

Her mind fought the siren call though, jabbing her into the real world as she sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and expecting to hear her mother's voice as her vision returned. Glancing around, she quickly discovered that she was not in her bedroom at home, but in a stiff four-post surrounded by unfamiliar decorum.

Sitting up, Billie glanced down a her body which was dressed in an elegant nightgown of sheer lace that started under her bust and extended to the middle of her thighs and a black satin bustier which enhanced the swell of her breasts. Admiring the fine garment, she gently touched the fabric, feeling it beneath her fingertips then placed them on the soft silk sheets beneath her body.

The silk rubbed against her skin, a feeling of cool heavenly liquid that made her feel as though she was in a dream. Running the pads of her fingers against the soft stitches, she sighed, thinking about the cotton sheets she had at home.

At home.

The thought of home sent Billie in a frenzy as she realized that nothing about the sheets or the negligee were the slightest bit familiar. She was in a completely foreign place.

The dawning of that fact drove panic into her heart, and without thinking Billie swung her legs over the side of the bed, standing up quickly as her toes pressed into a beautiful Persian rug.

"I see you are awake."

The voice stopped her in her tracks and Billie froze, rooted to the spot as her shoulders jumped to her ears, body tense with surprise and coldness filling her gut at the voice, a high-pitched whisper that sent a chill down her spine. The cold tone spoke of a man who simply could not be human, and as Billie slowly turned around, she discovered that her assumption had been correct as she laid eyes upon a man, or what used to be one.

In essence, to call him a man would be a vile stretch of truth, for his bizarre features held no semblance of the human form, more of a humanoid alien. Pale skin, as white as snow stretched across a gaunt face that spoke of too many years, and many to come. As Billie stared at him, her eyes flew to the center of his face where the absence of a proper nose spoke louder than any other feature, drawing a sharp breath in her throat as she silently wondered if this man had been horribly disfigured, or utterly evil.

To accent his strange and terrifying looks, he seemed to be devoid of any hair, face free of eyebrows and head bald as a rock. As Billie's heart pounded in her chest, she wondered what sort of creature he could possibly be, because the theory of disfigurement by birth or even perhaps some accident wormed out of her mind and disappeared in the air. This man- this _thing_- was not a victim, but a heinous creature that seemed to have crawled out of the very pits of Hell to torment the young girl.

"Do not be afraid." He spoke, standing up slowly and making his way across the room to Billie. She noticed that when he talked, he spoke like an elderly man, reminiscing fond memories with an airy tone of happiness and glee, something that made her all the more uneasy.

Shrinking back slightly, Billie backed from where she stood as he approached, his moments like that of a snake. As she continued to step backward, she found herself pressed against a surface and realized that she was trapped, a thought that almost brought her to tears as her breathing began to quicken. She was trapped with this demonic thing, in a place that she did not know.

Could this be a nightmare perhaps? Could all of this simply be a dream? It was often that Billie experienced lucid dreams, so vivid and detailed that although she knew she was dreaming, she still questioned when she awoke which was the dream, and which was reality. Perhaps she was asleep right now in her home, towering above the streets of New York. Tomorrow she would wake up for an 8 A.M. class, and catch the train to the university.

_Wake up. Please wake up damn it. _She silently thought to herself as the creature approached. With each step, her stomach lurched, tightening in knots and threatening to fall right through her body and onto the floor in a heaping mess. She wanted to scream and run like hell but Billie knew that was not an option, and even if it was, she could not openly show herself as being weak.

Jaw clenched tightly, Billie all but stopped breathing when he finally stopped before her, standing merely a few inches away and staring right at her with eyes that had seen many death. Digging her nails into her palms, Billie wondered if the apocalypse had indeed come, and that she had been left behind. Perhaps it had been for her bisexuality, something she refused to believe or maybe her refusal to save herself for a husband as her mother always insisted. What if the world had ended, and she was staring into the face of Satan right now?

Swallowing, Billie dug her fingers into her palms further, feeling her nails pinch at the flesh, biting into her skin and bringing forth a small amount of pain that cleared her mind and helped her think, forgetting her panic at the moment.

"You look…exquisite, in this gown." He suddenly said, face contorting into a smile that for a moment, broke through his inhuman features and soothed Billie as she stared at him. The simple expression made him look almost human, and less frightening than before.

"Thank you." She responded quietly, resting her hands on her stomach. As she did so, she noticed his eyes study her body intently, coming to rest on her neck. Bringing a hand to the delicate muscle, Billie's fingers grazed the hollow at the base of her neck, before suddenly, every single detail, memory, and sound, and feeling from the previous incident hit her at once, sending her reeling with emotion and leaving her wrought with anguish.

"Oh God." She breathed, knees buckling beneath her as she fell to the ground, sobs wracking her body. As she closed her eyes, the vision of her young sister being eaten flashed across her eyelids and Billie screamed, trying to make the image disappear.

She had lost it all, everything she held near and dear to her heart. The most important things in her life were gone, and they would never be able to return to her. Gone in a matter of what seemed like seconds as Billie replayed the images in her mind, and for what reason? What could possibly justify the cold blooded murder of so many? Who would put it in their minds to kill with no remorse?

Her heart felt strangely empty, robbed of everything and anything that nourished and cared for it. Unable to feel or think, Billie fell to the carpet, closing her eyes and simply sobbed, each and every tear rushing free without so much as a thought. She longed to rest in the arms of her father, and kiss his cheek, feeling the stubble that had begun to grow faster and faster as he reached his 50's. She wanted to lay in bed with her mother, talking about the world around them. She yearned to grasp the small hands of his sisters as they dashed in the rain, stomping in puddles with glee and letting water splash against their legs.

"Are you alright?" the cold voice said and Billie looked up, hatred welling in her heart as the perpetrator of her sorrow stood before her, bending down with his head tilted to the side in observance, looking upon her as if she were some sort of pet.

Glancing up between blurry eyes, Billie glared at his unearthly features, unable to stop herself from shaking violently as a newfound hatred blossomed within her, anger surging through her veins and bringing her blood pressure to a new high. All she could think about was getting revenge for the lives that had been lost, and lunging out at him violently. She wanted to rake her nails across his face and watch blood trickle out of his flesh. She wanted to dig her nails into his eye sockets, and listen to him cry in pain beneath her. Most of all though, Billie wanted to make him _feel _her hurt.

"You…..goddamn bastard." She choked, thrown forward by another round of sobs. Between each violent cry, she glanced up through her tears, clutching the bedspread so tightly that her knuckles turned an entire shade lighter.

"They were little girls, innocent girls." She continued, shaking her head. Beside her, the man stood to his feet, before looking down at her so coldly that his eyes caused her to twitch.

"It was not my hand that took their lives." He breathed, voice completely void of any semblance of emotion, regret, or even simple caring for what he had done. The iciness of the words pummeled Billie violently as though she was being kicked in the gut numerous times after she had already been violently beaten.

"But it was you who allowed it to happen. You did not intervene, instead you just sat there. You sick, pathetic, son of a bitch-" she spat violently, daring to stand up on weak legs with legs curled into fists.

It happened so quickly that she did not have time to react. As Billie seethed, her captor flew at her with accomplished speed, black robes trailing behind his pale body and came into contact with her, throwing her back and pinning her against the wall, cold hands clamped around her wrists so tightly that she cried out in pain.

"You _will not _speak to Lord Voldemort that way Muggle, I am not your equal, and you shall not address me as such. I am the greatest Dark Wizard to walk this planet, and you are just a lost little girl." He hissed, face inches away from her.

As his breath tickled Billie's face, she could not help but notice the coldness of his hands, which felt like ice against her skin, that and the emptiness in his eyes.

Meeting her own, he stared at her for a long moment, his body continuing to press harder and harder against her own until their figures had essentially become one, his cold skin melded against her buttery smooth. Swallowing, Billie tried to still her beating heart and she stared right back, silently refusing to back down from his fiery gaze.

Suddenly, a look of plain and utter bewilderment crossed his face as he tilted his head to the side, furrowing his brow as his eyes darted about Billie's face rapidly. Jumping back, he gazed at her for a moment, relinquishing her from his icy grip and staring at her as though she was some sort of mystical creature.

With the absence of his touch, the life completely left Billie and she slid to the floor in a heap once again, bringing her knees to her chin tucking them safely beneath her body. Closing her eyes, she listened to the swish of his robes against the rug as he retreated, twitching slightly with the sound of the door closing the turned on her side, clutching the carpet in her dainty hands and closing her eyes, the world around her caving in.

* * *

_Who was she? _ What _was she?_

These were the two questions that tumbled around Lord Voldemort's head as he sat in an armchair in his bedroom, hands clasped beneath his chin in intent thought about the girl he had brought to his home.

He had originally sought out her parents, former wizards who had forsaken their talent and unveiled the secrets of the wizarding world to so many Muggles, all but destroying the secrecy that kept the wizarding world safe from the animalistic nature of Muggles to foolishly fear what they did not know.

Both were Muggle-born, and Voldemort was certain that the girl knew nothing of the wizarding world, but what shocked him was when he peered into her mind, he not only found it incredibly difficult, but when he had surpassed the thick barriers of her mind, he found nothing but a strange hollow chanting in a language completely foreign to him.

When he looked into her sorrow-filled eyes, she did not seem to be consciously aware of the words that flew through her brain.

There was no way to return to the home and search for clues, for the bodies of the family had been strewn across the home foolishly, with the forever unintelligent Fenrir leaving behind the parts he did not like. Due to the inability of the wolf to consider cleaning up after himself, the Muggle police were stumped, but even more any wizard would know that a werewolf was behind the crime, a werewolf in a pack with wizards at that.

He was not ready to reveal his presence yet, and knew that Death Eaters would be pointed to for the crime, with or without knowledge of his presence. No matter what though, The Great Fool Albus Dumbledore would point the incident to his hand, meaning that Voldemort would be forced to lay low for the time being.

Besides the indecipherable whispers in her head thought, it may have been her insolence that intrigued Voldemort the most. Her parents must have told her something of him at some point in her life, and she dared speak to him as if he were her equal, looking him in the eyes and raising her voice harshly. The very thought of her attitude sent a surge of anger through him, as he longed to bring a lash down upon her back and punish her for her tongue, yet in the way she stood up to him, he was also pleased. Whether it was from simple ignorance or indeed she had no respect, no one dared talk to him that way.

She was defiant, proud, even in her moment of grief. A part of her reminded him of Bellatrix, when she was young, arrogant and unruly. He could see the fire within her, the unbridled passion that threatened to break free. She would be a slave of no one except the one that mattered the most.

As Voldemort sat in quiet contemplation, the familiar call of his dear female companion reached out to him as she slithered into the room, flicking out her tongue and weaving between various structures. Bending down, he picked up the giant reptile, cradling her in his arms gently in put her in his lap, met with a hiss of contentment.

"Hello my dear." Voldemort and quietly, and Nagini tilted her head up, looking at him. Tenderly, she began to wrap her body around one of his arms, her familiar form bringing him into relaxation. Stroking her head lovingly, Voldemort continued to think about the girl, unable to get the feel of her body pressed against his own out of his head.

She had been so warm, despite the white flesh that could almost rival his own. Body quaking with fury he had felt her tremor beneath her, large breasts pressed against his body. It had been a long time since he had felt the intimate touch of a woman, and her figure was a picturesque image of the great Muggle goddesses of old, beautiful curves that called out sensually.

When he had her dressed in the nightgown, Voldemort had paid no thought to just what may have laid beneath her clothing, but in the sheer and elegant piece of fabric, he longed to tear it from her skin and free her breasts, fingers tracing the fullness of each mound. Perhaps nothing was more delectable than her scent however, the musky call of amber that clung to her white skin delicately.

Nagini let out a loud hiss, jaws opened wide and Voldemort looked down only to realize that he was clenching her so harshly in his grasp that she cried out in discomfort. Without a word, he set the great snake down onto the carpet and let her unravel from him, turning her head in anger for his lack of apology before slithering out of the room.

Suddenly, the silence of Voldemort's bed chambers were blasted apart as he stood and let out a roar so menacing that miles away a sleeping boy awoke with a violent start, searing pain tearing through the lightning bolt-shaped scar in his head.

She was the daughter of traitors, Muggle traitors at that, and here he was, fantasizing about the warmth of her skin and her enticing scent. Fury blossomed within the Dark Lord, and he stood, pulling out his wand and aiming it at a vase before blasting the thing to smithereens.

He was not certain which angered him more, the fact that she was so beautiful, or the fact that he found himself attracted to her. It was infuriating, her full pink lips and large eyes framed by thick lashes. Why did she have to be so damned beautiful, why did she have to invoke the weakness of desire within him? Her parents had crossed him in an unforgiveable way, yet he could not even look at her without flitting down to her pronounced collarbone which stuck out deliciously beneath pale skin.

Voldemort longed to curse her, bring down his wand and watch her writhe on the floor for all the things she had not done, he wanted to break her and watch the tears flow from those big eyes once again, and in the midst of it all, he also yearned to hold her in his arms and do the things he had not done in so long.

The repulsion she brought forth in his stomach battled aggressively with his unspoken need for her. Perhaps if he allowed himself to succumb to primal urges just once, he could dispose of her and move on with his life.

But something told Lord Voldemort that it would not be that simple. He was still intrigued by what he had discovered in the deep recesses of her mind, and felt that there was a possibility she was not the simple Muggle girl he had originally thought.

She could be of use to him and his cause, potentially a valuable asset to the Death Eaters if indeed, she dwelled within the realm of the supernatural. Yes, this could be his justification for letting her linger, even though deep down, Lord Voldemort knew just why he wanted to keep her around.

* * *

Billie jumped up from her seat on the bed as the door flew open, a woman with wild hair and heavily-lidded eyes emerging, face contorted in a sneer.

Storming across the room, she tossed a ball of fabric at Billie which fell onto the floor in a piled mess. The young girl glanced down at the heap then back to the woman who glared at her with an expression of utter contempt.

"You're to wear those. The Dark Lord demands your company for dinner."

"_Demands_?" Billie narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. With bright red eyes and a swollen nose, it would have been evident that she had been crying, a sign of weakness if Billie were to play in this strange world where murder was a simple activity. At the moment though, she did not care. In her mourning, anger had come ablaze as she stood before this woman who spoke to her, looked at her, and wrinkled her nose as though Billie was beneath her. Here, she had just lost everything and this woman who did not even know her had the nerve to toss about her black locks with absolutely no regard for her being.

Billie did not expect a hug, or a pat on the shoulder. She could tell that each and every person in this place was responsible for the death of her family just as the men who had savagely taken their lives with their own hands, but she did not expect such indifferent cruelty from people she did not know, and for what reason? She still had no idea why she was there, or why the entire situation had occurred at all. Billie did not know why her parents and sisters were dead, and she was alive, and not knowing made her all the angrier.

That very anger led Billie to speak her mind freely, not caring what happened to her. In the back of her mind, a part of her silently hoped that these monsters who called themselves people would pull out one of their wooden sticks and kill her for her quick tongue, something that had not yet come to pass. She was here, in their home it seemed, yet Billie could not figure out why the pale man who called himself Lord Voldemort had spared her. Did he think she knew something? Was it to further torture her for things she did not know about? What reason did they have for her when both of her parents were now dead? Perhaps they were to use her for some sort of bargaining chip, but Billie had no one to reach out to and plead for freedom.

"You dare talk to me you filthy Mudblood!" the woman shrieked with wide eyes as Billie confronted the term demand. Billie could tell the word was meant to be some sort of insult, but it slid off her body as cool anger continued to flow within her, along with a silent plea for death.

"And who the hell are you? I see nothing more than a mangy unkempt _bitch_." She snapped, heart fluttering as the woman pulled out a brown stick, eyes so furious that for a moment, Billie felt the urge to laugh. Her rage looked like something out of a children's cartoon, face bright red, eyes wide as saucers and mouth pursed in a silly pout.

"You…." She narrowed her eyes, shaking furiously as she raised the brown stick. _"Aveda_-"

"Bellatrix!"

The voice tore through the tense scene like a machete through the thick foliage of some exotic jungle. Cold and hollow, Billie felt the hair on the back of her neck stand eerily as she glanced behind her attacker to Lord Voldemort, standing tall and lean in his black robes and staring at the two women with a face so menacing that fear finally began to creep into Billie's heart once more.

"Did I not say to leave the girl unharmed?" he breathed, each word sending a shiver through Billie's body. Even in the terror of it all, something in his voice aroused her, bringing her churning emotions to a halt long enough to observe his power in awe, and slight admiration.

"The Mudblood provoked me My Lord." The woman replied, throwing a sharp glance at Billie which she eagerly returned.

"Yes, she does have a way about her. She does not know how to hold her tongue, but more so, you disobeyed Bellatrix. My most faithful servant, directly defying my orders. You dare go against me for words, and now you will suffer for them. _Crucio_!" he hissed, extending a long finger.

As Billie watched in a mixture of horror, smug satisfaction, and excitement, the woman fell to the ground and began writhing and screaming in agony that pierced Billie's ears like glass. Billie could only imagine the pain she felt, but a part of it excited her. Never before had she seen someone alive like this, back arched and wrists wrung as she turned her head to the side, each cry causing Billie to take a step forward. It put her in a trance, and she simply watched the woman, unaware of the eyes that lingered on her small frame.

After what seemed an eternity, he retracted his finger, relinquishing the torture he doled out so easily and glancing at Billie who now found herself across the room, several feet from the crumpled and whimpering body. Swallowing, Billie looked up at him as she tried to still her beating heart, her chest rising and falling rapidly. She was not afraid, but exhilarated. She silently wondered what it would be like to feel that kind of pain, and if it could bring her even more excitement, if not pleasure. She had heard of the world of S&M, where men and women inflicted and accepted various amounts of torture for the sexual thrill, and while Billie had never been into anything like that at her young age, she had to admit it was slightly interesting. Her own love life never seemed to be entirely fulfilling, in fact, she had never even experienced an orgasm before, with herself or with a partner, but the excitement she felt right now made her wonder…

"I ask that you join me for dinner." Lord Voldemort suddenly broke her chain of thought and Billie looked up, blood rushing into her cheeks as she suddenly realized just what she had been thinking. Her family had been killed, and here she was, fantasizing about getting her rocks off on pain.

"W-what?" She blinked rapidly, trying to ignore the bright pink splotches that spread across her heated cheeks and chest.

"Join me, in a finely prepared meal. The finest I can offer to you, as my guest." He spoke, the apparent fact in his tone that she had no choice of declining.

"Your guest or your prisoner?" Billie heard herself ask before she could even stop herself. The moment the words flew from her mouth, she felt a mixture of grim satisfaction and a desire to suck them back in as she watched his face shift drastically, clouding over with poorly concealed anger.

"You will not question me girl. In the hour, you will join me for dinner." He hissed, before spinning around and stepping on the woman crumpled on the ground with no care. She cried out, and as Lord Voldemort left, Billie glanced down at the woman.

Bile rising in her throat, she walked over to the body, upper lip curled in disgust and lifted her leg, before kicking the body harshly.

Bellatrix Lestrange rolled over, shooting up on weak legs and glared at Billie with a look so menacing that she felt if it lasted any longer she might actually melt into the floor.

"Just you wait little girl. When the Dark Lord gets what he wants and is finished with you, you'll pay for that." She spat, before stumbling to the door and casting one last look at Billie.

Sticking out her chest, Billie strode across the room and grasped the door handle, before opening her mouth.

"I'll be looking forward to it." She deadpanned, before slamming the door right in Bellatrix's face and returning to the side of the bed where the crumpled mess lay. Bending down and picking it up, she set it on the bed and slowly straightened the wrinkled mess, gasping as she laid eyes on a stunning black evening gown.

The beautiful garment was sheer lace, with a nude bodice underneath that almost matched the color of Billie's skin, with long sleeves. It looked to be form fitting so that it would skim her curves, enhancing her small waist and grazing her womanly hips and draping down to the calves where it tapered into a mermaid-style bottom and trailed across the floor. Grasping the material firmly, Billie turned it over to reveal the entire back exposed, stopping at the small of her back.

Grasping the dress tightly, Billie brought it to her chest, hugging it as she tried to deal with the mixture of emotions that threatened to boil over within her. She felt guilty that she was not on the floor grieving for the loss of her family, angry at those who had caused it, confused about the entire ordeal, and curios about what this Lord Voldemort wanted from her.

Silently, she stood thinking, looking down at the dress before a knock on the door startled her. Jumping slightly, a small trinket fell onto the floor and Billie looked down and picked it up, forgetting the stranger on the other side of the door and picking up what appeared to be an opal necklace.

Another series of raps came, and Billie grasped it tightly in her hand, fingering the solid gems and padding across the room quickly before she could further agitate her guest. Pulling open the door, she found herself looking at a gorgeous blonde hair woman with red lips and features extremely similar to the woman named Bellatrix who had previously been in her room.

"Yes?" Billie asked, looking down at her palm and admiring the sparkling opals for a moment before reaching up and slipping the necklace around her neck, fiddling with the clasp for a moment before letting her hands drop down to touch her neck. Already the elegant accessory felt natural against her skin, and Billie fingered it lightly, a small smile crawling across her face.

"Where did you get that necklace?" the woman before asked, voice shaking slightly and Billie looked up, forgetting her presence entirely as she fiddled with the delicate trinket. The woman's eyes were noticeably wide, glancing from Billie's neck and to her face as though she was waiting for something to happen.

"It fell out of the dress. It's quite beautiful, it isn't yours is it?" she stepped forward, and the woman took a step back, glancing down at Billie's neck once more.

"No…no." she shook her head, before dropping a pair of shoes onto the ground. Bending down, she picked them up and Billie made a move to help her but she flinched away, almost as if in fear. Not even touching Billie, she shoved the shoes into her hands and stepped back into the hallway.

"The Dark Lord requests you wear those." She said quickly, before spinning on her heel and disappearing down the hall before Billie had a chance to say another word.

* * *

"You are certain it was the same necklace?"

"Yes My Lord, as certain as can be." Narcissa Malfoy said, bowed before The Dark Lord in the dining room where he sat at a long mahogany table, brow furrowed intently as he tried to make sense of what he had just be told.

Narcissa had proved to be a loyal and moderately intelligible woman. He had no reason not to trust her judgment, and when he peered into her mind he could see she was telling the truth, however the truth was just what concerned him at this moment.

From what he knew, the girl he had upstairs, the girl born from two Muggle parents and raised with no knowledge of the wizarding world was wearing a cursed necklace which had taken the lives of numerous Muggles, and she was wearing this unharmed, unscathed, as though it was no more than an ordinary accessory.

She should have been dead, and as Lord Voldemort sat, silently uncertain what to make of all this, one simple question lingered in his mind:

_What was she?_


	3. Dining with a Queen

**A/N: I DO NOT own **_**Harry Potter**_**.**

**Dining with a Queen**

Voldemort stared across the table darkly, watching as his dinner guest ate with such poised presence that he could not help but smile. Each move was delicate and meaningful, the way she brought her fork to her mouth without leaning over, absolutely perfect posture despite the size of her bosom.

Beneath the dim lighting of the room, she looked nothing short of dazzling, clad in the fine dress that Voldemort had found and on a whim, desired to see her wear. It was a fine item of clothing, beautiful in its own right, but on her…it was an entirely different story. The dark fabric clung to her womanly curves, skimming beautifully rounded hips and hugging her full breasts, emphasizing a small waist. As the smalls sequins shone beneath the light, Voldemort could not stop himself from further basking him her rich beauty, which had no limits.

It was her elegance that further exaggerated her physical attributes however, a woman from another time it seemed. The way she used each and every piece of silverware from her salad fork to fish knife, Voldemort wondered how she could be so young, yet so mature at the same time. She carried herself with the air of a woman well beyond her years, something that reminded him much of himself at her age, set on conquering the world with a maturity that came from having no one but himself as he grew up.

As Voldemort continued to watch her, his eyes were once again drawn to the jewel that hung around her neck, a dangerous and deadly accessory which surprisingly seemed to have no effect on her, besides enhancing her beauty. Against Billie's pale skin, the opals and silver gleamed, as she wore it as though it were a mere trinket, not a cursed item which had taken the lives of many. Just the touch of bare skin against the piece caused instant death, but here, Billie seemed able to resist its power.

With silence she ate, taking sips of wine in between each bite and cutting her food into the most delicate of pieces before bringing them to her full mouth. Without a though, Voldemort's gaze followed the conglomerate of jewels down to the swell of her breasts, skin deliciously smooth.

Bringing his hands to his mouth, Voldemort cleared his throat, drawing the attention of Billie from where she sat across the table. Taking a napkin, she grazed her mouth lightly, setting it down in the center of the plate and looking down. So far, she had yet to look at him directly, something that brought about frustration within Voldemort. He wanted her eyes to come to rest on him, he wanted to look through her thick lashes and peer into her beauty. He wanted her to recognize that he was her superior, and look at him as such.

"I trust you enjoyed the meal." He spoke softly and her eyes flitted up for just a moment before returning to her lap. In that small second, Voldemort could not help but savor the fleeting glance, her brilliant orbs looking right at him.

The meal had been prepared by Wormtail, who with a bit of magic, was surprisingly quite skilled in the kitchen. The beautiful feast included salmon fillets, a suckling pig, and the most dazzling steak and kidney pie amongst dozens upon dozens of other things. The most delectable of items was sitting right across from him though, and Voldemort longed to dig in.

"I did, thank you." She replied, her voice cold and unwavering. He could not help but admire that even amidst her intense emotion she remained courteous and proper, holding her own. Her capacity to hold in her emotion and keep a blank face was astounding, although he could feel that deep down inside she was weak and pathetic, just like her mother. She was certainly stronger though, and he knew that she would not beg for her life if faced with death.

As Voldemort continued to study her, he realized that he did not know her name. Certainly a girl of such grace must have had an exquisite name to match. Would her Muggle parents have named her something old-fashioned? Or did she share the many strange names of other American young women?

"What is your name?" he asked vocally, and she glanced up once again, this time her eyes settling on him and causing a strange flutter within his body. The almond-shaped orbs were cold, icy, and swimming with silent fury that caused Voldemort to twitch slightly. He had spared her life, given her the finest of clothing, let her feast on a meal prepared for kings, and she dared look upon him with contempt. For a moment, he wanted to teach her a lesson, pull out his wand and show her pain so that she knew just what he could do, but when she spoke, her voice trickled like honey and he found himself forgetting his anger.

"Billie." She replied softly.

"Billie? An odd name for a young girl." He mused, and this time, she spoke slightly louder.

"I was named after a famed jazz singer. She was female." She reiterated, and The Dark Lord wrapped his mind around the name. While it seemed odd against the tongue, it also seemed quite fitting. The name drew up images of old-fashioned beauty, famous stars of the olden days.

"Quite beautiful." He muttered softly, under his breath so that Billie could not hear. As he spoke the words, Nagini slithered into the room quietly, hissing and flicking her tongue at Billie as she moved past and went to her master. As she went by, Voldemort noticed the girl's eyes widen, her body tensing even more than it already had been in the presence of the great serpent.

Dutifully, Nagini stopped at the leg of Voldemort's chair before winding herself around the structure, slowly climbing onto his lap and curling up. Clutching her in his arms tightly, he stood, putting her around his shoulders then stalking across the table towards the quivering girl on the other end. With each step, Voldemort could see her fear grow, her heart pumping in her chest rapidly. Delicately, he brought his fingers to her scales and stroked her lightly, feeling her long body vibrate in approval.

Stopping in font of Billie's chair, he leaned against the table, grasping Nagini's head in his hands before shifting towards Billie. Nagini hissed, turning back and facing him inquisitively, and Billie flinched, jumping back in her seat slightly, fear dominating her features. Nagini responded in delight at her terror, opening her mouth wide and baring venomous fangs with a hiss that caused Voldemort to chuckle. Bringing her to his chest, he kissed her head lightly, stroking under her mouth with his index finger.

"Behave in the presence of our guest." He commanded in Parsletongue, and Nagini lowered her head like a sullen child, flicking her tongue in defiance but not daring to speak as she wanted to. Lord Voldemort would never correct his darling companion, yet she knew to restrain herself. He had made it quite apparent that Billie was not to be touched, and being his most faithful servant, she did as told.

"She is really quite friendly I assure you, why don't you touch her head?" he smiled down at Billie. A part of him rejoiced in her fear, relishing her weakness. Another part wanted to see if she would be able to conquer her silly human emotion enough to trust the simple task of petting Nagini as he had asked.

For a moment, she simply sat there, swallowing visibly then lifted a trembling hand, slowly and timidly moving towards Nagini before brushing her head. Nagini retracted with a harsh hiss causing Billie to shoot back, her face flushing bright red.

"I apologize, Nagini takes some time to make friends." Voldemort breathed with a small grin of admiration, before grasping the heavy creature and letting her slide onto the floor. Slithering off, she tossed Billie a glance then continued out of the room, leaving the two of them alone once more. When he turned back to her, his eyes were drawn to her heaving chest, breathing sped up from her bout of fear. With each inhale and exhale, her bosom rose and fell, breasts straining against the cut of her dress deliciously. The simple sight was enough to send his mind reeling with thoughts of running his hands over her body and feeling her smooth skin.

Suddenly, he could think of nothing but smelling her. He wanted to bring his nose to the crook of her neck and inhale her sensual scent. The arousing amber that brought warmth to his loins and brought about forbidden thoughts. Extending a pale arm, he let his wrist hand near her face, offering his hand to her.

"I ask that you would join me."

"Join you where?" she shot, causing him to twitch with irritation.

"On a walk." Voldemort continued, attempting to hold his temper.

"You're asking again? Why bother when I have no choice?" she spoke in a tone so full of disrespect that Voldemort could not stop himself from lunging forward and grabbing her by her wrist, pulling her to her feet violently. She cried out in surprise at the swift movement and he squeezed her wrist tightly, facing her and pulling her close.

"I have spared your life yet you remain insolent, ungrateful and uncivilized like the rest of your kind. You think you feel pain now girl, but you have yet to see what I can do." He seethed, before letting her wrist drop to her side. As Voldemort did so, he noticed that her hand flew to the skin, rubbing it softly. While she had let out a gasp in the moment, there was no fear written on her face. In fact, she looked quite…confused, brows furrowed and small wrinkles appearing in her forehead.

Surrounded by silence, Voldemort was suddenly hit with a pang of bitter awareness. For a moment when he gazed upon her, standing there so simple, so human, he was repulsed by her. He wanted to sneer and push her away in disgust, pulling out his wand and making sport out of her as he did when he was young.

But the very thought of harming Billie backfired, as Voldemort once again was faced with the disgusting realization that he himself came from nothing. His filthy father's blood was nothing but dirt, and even in the great heritage of his mother's side, his grandfather was nothing but a raging drunk. She came from a family of Muggle-born traitors, while he himself was born of a union that left his pathetic mother alone.

Each and every time Voldemort raised his wand or listened to the hateful chatter of his Death Eaters, he could not stop the cold sting of resentment, for though no one else may have known besides Albus Dumbledore, Voldemort would always remember where he came from.

Suddenly, she let out a loud gasp, clenching her pale hands into small fists.

"Please, I need air." She breathed, face reddening deeply. Staring at her, Voldemort watched as her breathing began to quick and she flexed her hands, curling and uncurling them into those dainty fists. Carefully, he extended a hand, gesturing towards the way outside and she took a step forward, walking as though she needed to use the toilet, legs pressed together with each step. Her behavior was quite curious, causing Voldemort to forget all about his internal conflict and anger, simply watching her.

As they reached a door leading to the back yard of the house, Billie lifted her leg, taking a step and missing the barely noticeable distance between the floor and the top of it. She stumbled blindly, lunging forward and Voldemort leaned in to steady her, putting his arms around her frame.

Immediately, he shuddered, not having been this close to a woman in quite some time. And indeed, just as he had anticipated, he found himself overwhelmed by her alluring scent. It enveloped him, surrounding the air around him and pulled him to her, calling out effortlessly and silently.

Her body was warm and soft beneath his hands, and Voldemort's eyes flew to her luscious dark curls, pinned back elegantly. Leaning in closely, he found the top of her head, taking in whiffs of the subtle oils that scented her hair, a light and airy fragrance. The Dark Lord inhaled sharply, closing his eyes and breathing her, touching her, feeling her. It was overwhelming, overpowering to his senses but he could not stop, even as she tried to shy away from him.

What felt an eternity to Lord Voldemort had only been the passage of several seconds, and as he reluctantly broke away from Billie, she turned her head slightly, almond eyes turning to face his.

"Thank you for the dinner." She suddenly said, voice wavering and Voldemort stared at her full lips, wanting to run his long fingers over the delicate skin and feel her breath.

There was a newfound eagerness in her words, her tone slighter warmer as though she was eager to please. It was something that Voldemort recognized for he listened to the tone every day. She wanted his acceptance, she craved his approval. It intrigued him, what had caused this sudden change in her attitude towards him, but nevertheless, her subtle desperation was most amusing.

As she said this, her large eyes shone slightly. Voldemort simply stood, wanting to reach out and bring his index finger to her temple, stroking lightly but resisted the urge, stepping past her swiftly and out into the night.

The massive garden behind the manor was a quite beautiful thing, with lush green leaves dominating the landscape, vibrant grass, and tall finely-trimmed hedges. Colorful flowers of exotic and magical mystification hung from their stems, peeking out of bushes with petals that were irresistible to touch, and caused instant death.

The night air was cool, a light fog creeping through the darkness and coating the surrounding air in a light misty blanket. As Voldemort's bare feet grazed the soft blades of grass he curled his toes, savoring the feel, the grass that cushioned his feet. Beside him, Billie let out an audible inhale, stepping forward and looking around wildly.

"Beautiful." She whispered under her breath, and as he watched her, he was reminded of a delicate rose, petals smooth as silk that glistened under the early morning dew, offering a quiet and effortless beauty that could be matched by virtually nothing. As a boy, Tom Riddle Jr. had learned to appreciate the simply marvelousness of nature, the way the Earth came together to create radiant portraits without human interference. It was astonishing and majestic, the impressive colors, structures, scents, and feels that nature itself created, and without even trying, enraptured him.

Yes, this girl reminded him very much of the natural world he had come to love. Without her hair pulled back and her face void of makeup, she looked a dream, simply radiating beauty without having even tried. It was astounding, it was splendiferous, it was nothing and everything he could have ever imagined.

She was poisonous, a poisonous beauty that he longed to have and conquer, though it would mean succumbing to the urges he had given up long ago in his quest for glory.

The way he had always seen it, lust was a human weakness. Empires had been torn down by a man's simple desire for woman, lives lost and destinies ruined. While Voldemort had never felt any true attachment to a woman, he foresaw a future where nothing would stand in his way of glory, even if it was a woman. The parting of two lean legs would not be the downfall of all he had worked so hard to accomplish, and as Voldemort stood in silence, he glanced at the young girl beside him and suddenly began to wonder, what exactly had he done?

What if this girl was his undoing? What if everything he had worked so hard to achieve, all the obstacles that he had hurdled to get to where he was would be lost? It could not happen, and Lord Voldemort would not _let _it happen. He had made the mistake of looking upon her beautiful face long enough to spare her life, and now, he was paying for it.

Glancing at her wildly, he tilted his head to the side, wondering if perhaps this had been the doing of her parents all along. The two were always troublesome in what they revealed to the Muggle community, perhaps they had gone even further to stage an assassination attempt. The thought was laughable, so much that he found himself letting out a cold chuckle beneath his breath. If that was so, then even in their death, Lord Voldemort could still make them suffer.

"Come, I would like to show you something." He spoke softly, his tone wrapped with the deceptive charm that had once gotten him so many places. With purpose, he navigated through the garden, aware of her soft footsteps behind him as they weaved through hedges, rounding the giant maze which had been detailed to perfection.

Without a word, Voldemort led Billie to a long row of bushes containing red roses, distinctive by the swirl of white that flowed through the petals like a milky strain. So beautiful the plants were, however their beauty only hid their true intent, with sharp thorns that delivered a poison taken from the venom of his darling Nagini. Severus Snape had been kind enough to perfect the toxin, and a simple prick of the skin against the abundant points could cause instant death.

"Beautiful, are they not?" Voldemort said, their intoxicating and alluring fragrance wafting into his nostrils, not affecting him as they were intended to do with others. Turning, he watched as Billie's eyes fluttered and she inhaled deeply, bending down to look closer at the flowers. So close he was to dispatching her, but as she leaned forward, extending a hand, he reached forward to stop her, freezing as one of her fingertips brushed a thorn.

"Ouch!" she exclaimed, pulling her hand back quickly and looking down at the wounded index finger, a small dot of blood oozing from the broken skin and running down the side of her finger. Bringing her finger to her mouth, she sucked on the wound, and Voldemort stared in sheer awe as she looked back down at the wound, then simply plucked one of the roses from the bush and brought it to her nose.

It could not have been a mistake on Severus' behalf, the roses had already claimed two lives. There had to have been some explanation for this strange outcome, however Voldemort couldn't think as the sight of her sucking the blood delicately from her finger lingered in his mind. It was such an innocent and thoughtless gesture, made sensual by the shape of her full lips and the red liquid dripping from her skin. Just how soft were those lips? Just how warm was her mouth?

The fantasies tumbled through his mind, stopping all reasonable thought and filling his brain with images of the young girl on her knees, kneeling before him with her hands bound and her face streaked with tears. He wanted her to surround him with her mouth, warm throat enveloping his hard member as he thrust into her so roughly that she gagged. And when he was done, he would let his seed drip onto his naked chest, drops streaming down large breasts.

Unable to think anymore, Voldemort spun on his heel, the garden disappearing around him and the world shifting until he found himself in his bedroom, alone and far away from the seductive siren call that was quickly pulling at his control. With a roar of fury, Voldemort swept his hand around his room, items exploding and shattering into tiny fragments that fell to the floor. The bellow was so loud that it was heard throughout the house, stirring terror in the hearts of each and every person there.

_Damn her!_ He thought, murderous desire filling his black heart. He needed to kill, he needed to maim, he needed to prove that this girl had no power over him, and that he was not weak. He needed to kill her.

* * *

Billie stared at herself in a large vanity mirror, running an ancient brush through her dark curls softly as she tilted her head to the side. Beneath the lighting of the room, the handle of the brush sparkled, small jewels adorning the handle and casting shining shapes on the ceiling above.

Setting the brush down gently, Billie grabbed a black ribbon and tied it around her thick hair, pushing it over one shoulder so that she had a long ponytail. As she looked at herself, she felt the smallest of smiles creep onto her lips. Clad in a sheer white lace negligee, she reminded herself of Christine Daee, famed opera star and heroine of _The Phantom of the Opera_, a play that had been one of her favorites since she had seen it for the first time, years ago. The beautiful and poignant production brought tears to her eyes, capturing her heart as she watched on the edge of her seat, the beautiful music of Andrew Lloyd Webber's masterpiece stirring emotions within her that she didn't even know she had. Nothing would or ever could compare to that feeling, and as Billie sat in front of the mirror, eyes shining sadly, she felt like sweet Christine, trapped underground by the malevolent Phantom whose undying love for her passed far beyond the border of psychotic.

However this was no Broadway production. Even Gaston Leroux's original literary work could not capture the true essence of the situation. While Leroux's Phantom possessed supernatural powers and the face and body of a walking decaying corpse, Billie knew there would be no happy ending, and that here, her survival depended on nothing she could do, but the whirlwind emotions of her captor.

She felt so many things. She was frightened, she was angry, she was full of sorrow, but also, there was a small part of Billie that could not deny her sudden want to please the man who held her here. He had killed her family, slayed them before her very eyes, but it was his brutality that captivated her, his power and extreme dominance. He was a monster, a murderer, and Hellish brute who no doubt must have been cast out of the Underworld long ago as a punishment to the Earth, but each time his voice filled with ice, his eyes with malice, Billie could not help but feel the need to drop to her knees before him and serve him any way she could.

Never had she been talked to before, threatened and treated like nothing. In her terror, she was titillated, and surprisingly, somewhat aroused.

He was utterly physically repulsive, horrific even, but Billie could not stop herself from wondering just how it would feel to give up control and let him take her, bringing her to an edge she had never known. She wanted to feel alive, she wanted to feel pain laced with glorious pleasure. For all this man had done, Billie wanted him, and she absolutely loathed herself for it.

She was disgusted, revolted, and absolutely angry with herself. Her twisted fantasies and desires rested with the man who had taken everything away from her, her whole life.

Looking at herself in the mirror, Billie turned away, not able to bear the sight of herself anymore. Walking across the room slowly with bare feet, she climbed into the massive four-poster before settling in under the covers, turning on her side and burying her face in a pillow.

She had made no attempt to escape, for she had nowhere to go. Besides, how far could she really get with a man who seemed to be more dangerous and deadly than anything she could imagine? Billie was ashamed of herself, truly ashamed. She had eaten his food, drank his wine, and even now, lay garbed in the clothing that he had provided for her. She dishonored her dead family with every breath she took, and each time she was alone, it was all she could think about.

Her little sisters were both beginning in ballet. What would have happened had they grown up? Would they compare to the likes of Gillian Murphy, fluttering across the stage with precise movements that could bring about tears? Or would they be brainy and intelligent, catapulting the family name while simultaneously bettering the world?

So young, they had no chance to live out their lives, and Billie could only imagine the terror that they had felt in their final moments. She herself had grown up, knowing that monsters did not exist, but to see your worst fears come alive in your final moment of living, the simple thought was too much.

Laying in the bed, Billie felt empty. She was nothing, she had nothing, and she deserved nothing. The only thing she could think to do was kill herself, ending this once and for all and going to join the rest of her family, where she could be safe in her mother's arms and hear her father's laughter forever. She didn't deserve to live, and she could no longer sit there and continue to live with the thought of herself.

But how?

Shifting in the bed, she turned her head and glanced towards the window. Perhaps a jump could do the trick, quick and quiet. Or there was the mirror, perhaps if she managed to break the glass she would be able to slit her throat. It would be painful and horrific, but then, her sisters deaths had been too. Who was she to escape suffering?

There was also the prospect of suffocation, bringing the pillow to her face and holding it there until she finally stopped breathing. The only problem, was that as soon as she became weak she would most certainly let go.

Perhaps slitting her throat would be the right way to go. If she fell out the window, there was a chance that she might still survive, and Billie wanted to make sure that chance didn't exist. Standing up, she walked across the room and stopped in front of the mirror, leaning over onto the vanity and staring at her reflection.

She could hear the screams of her parents, see the blood of her sisters. Billie could feel every inch of her being torn apart, and as she stared at her reflection, she felt her breath hitch in her throat, a lump rising. As tears pricked the back of her eyes and distorted her vision, she closed them, letting the two drops escape her lids and streak down her face. This was how she would die, a disgrace to her family, however she hoped that the act of ending her life would be redemption. Billie hoped that they would forgive her, and know, that she had taken her life so that she could be with them.

Raising a hand, she curled it into a fist, her arm shaking violently as she prepared to strike the mirror and hopefully shatter it. Inhaling deeply, she choked, sobs escaping her mouth and wracking her body. This was it, the final climax.

"I'm so sorry." She breathed into the empty air before closing her eyes, preparing to bring down her fist.

Suddenly, the door was thrown open and Billie jumped, turning to find herself looking in the snake-like face and menacing eyes of none other than Lord Voldemort.


	4. The Death of Igor Karkaroff

**A/N: I DO NOT own any part of **_**Harry Potter**_**. **

**The Death of Igor Karkaroff**

Hands raised, Billie remained frozen in her spot, heart leaping in her chest as she stared upon her inadvertent savior, chest heaving wildly and body seemingly frozen in time. It was an eternity as they simply stared at one another, his face completely blank and her own frozen in surprise and horror.

Opening his mouth, her captor simply stared at her, eyes shifting across her body and Billie suddenly realized that her clothing was completely sheer, giving view to her full bare breasts and thin panties. Instead of shame though, she felt warmth flutter through her body along with a small amount of excitement as he continued to gaze, taking her in unabashedly.

The way his eyes roved, absorbing each and every part of her was exciting, arousing, and much to Billie's horror, she found her body responding to his stare, and quickly crossed her arms over her chest in embarrassment as her nipples grew hard.

"Do you need something?" she managed to choke out, and Lord Voldemort shifted his eyes to her face, staring darkly and plainly without any hint of human emotion behind them. Glancing from the mirror and back, Billie could all but watch the wheels turning in his head as he moved back and forth, weaving a realization. Staring right at her, Billie felt a strange sensation as if there was a probe, moving through her very mind, sorting through her thoughts and grasping onto her very being. It was a bizarre and intrusive feeling that caused her to flinch slightly, her mind going mysteriously blank as she shied away from the contact.

"What do you want?" Billie asked quietly, leaning against the vanity miserably, her hands trembling and her body strangely weak as her mind cascaded with the thoughts and memories of the passing hours. The death, the confusion, the wild emotion that she could not control. It was physically sickening, it was exhausting, and as Billie closed her eyes, she began to sink down to the floor, letting her knees buckle beneath her.

The carpeted floor approached, and just as she prepared to collapse, letting her shins hit the floor cold hands grabbed her beneath the arms and tugged her back onto her feet. At His touch, she was met with a mixture of both panic and relief. Against her inner protest, she sank into his cold body, tilting her head back slightly.

Much to her surprise, he did not jerk away or throw her forward, and gauging his reaction, Billie allowed herself to relax comfortably and quietly in this position for a brief moment before Lord Voldemort pushed her gently in the direction of the bed, spinning her around and setting her down with a profound imitation of care.

Coming to rest on her back, Billie looked up at him before her, wanting to grab him by his robes, pulling him down on top of her small frame. She wanted him to ravage her, to grasp her body tightly and whisper harsh things in her ear as he pounded inside of her relentlessly and dominated her in every way possible.

Arching her back slightly, Billie stuck out her chest, teasing and staring at this horrific sight of a man who had captivated her in mysteriously she wondered if he had woven some sort of spell over her. Inhaling deeply, she let her legs come apart slightly, watching as his stare deepened.

His face was void of all emotion, and as Billie lay there, and longed to know what he was thinking. She wanted to know if she was desirable to him, or just a girl making a fool out of herself. No matter what though, she couldn't help but long for the freedom which would come with him taking her violently an without mercy. She needed to feel that brutality, taste the mixture of fear and freedom once again.

Closing her eyes, Billie waited, but much to her dismay the immense pleasure she was seeking never came, and when she opened her eyes she found herself staring into an empty room, completely devoid save for her presence. Lord Voldemort was nowhere to be found, and as Billie sat up and looked around for any trace of him, she felt her face flush violently. What was wrong with her? Why had he denied her?

She could not stop the questions that tumbled about her mind, relief and rejection mixing in with one another to leave her once again confused and overwhelmed.

* * *

Voldemort spied quietly, gazing through a crack in Billie's door as she stood with one leg up on the bed, toes pointed and fingers delicate as she grasped at the top of a stocking and rolled it up her leg carefully. Inhaling sharply, Voldemort watched as she grazed her inner thigh, fingers brushing back her chemise so that he almost caught a glimpse of the paradise between her legs.

He had come close, so close to having here. She had sprawled out on the bed before him, lips pouted and thighs parted in submission to his whiles, and Voldemort longed when he looked upon her delicate form to take her then and there. The way she laid on her back with eyes that gazed up at him seductively, arching her back and thrusting forth her chest.

Such a moment that had been! Even now, as Voldemort stood he could not help but close his eyes and picture her as she had been then, her waves spilling around her head like a halo. It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen, her hardened nipples visible through sheer clothing. He so longed to bend down and take her in his arms, tearing her thin clothing from her body and freeing those plump breasts that sat atop her ribcage.

And now, no matter how hard he tried to swallow his immeasurable lust, Voldemort could not ignore the ache in his loins as he peered through the crack in the door, watching as Billie bent over to adjust her stockings. As she did so, her large breasts strained against her brassiere, a black lace thing that pushed them up creating a magnificent swell.

The black stockings stood in contrast against her creamy white thighs, and Voldemort noted several individual strands of dark brown hair that fell against the nape of her neck, falling loose from her updo. He wanted to stand behind her, arms wrapped around her body tightly and grab her breasts as he let his lips graze the nape of her neck. And her reaction? She would shudder against him, arch her back so that her ample backside brushed his pounding erection. She would moan and coo, and she would beg for him to penetrate her. Yes, she would beg.

Voldemort brought himself back into the real world as Billie suddenly disappeared from view. Gazing across the room sharply, Voldemort barely had enough time to wonder where she might have gone before the door swung open and he found himself looking directly into her eyes.

"You were watching me." She spoke quietly, in a tone that was neither accusatory or inquisitive. It was a simple statement of fact, yes, he had been watching her no matter how much he would have hated to admit it. He had been watching her in all of her glory, and wondering just where this night may take him.

A part of the reason Voldemort had demanded her presence at tonight's Death Eater meeting was to assure she made no attempt to escape. It had been apparent by the look in her eyes as he intruded upon her the previous evening she was preparing to do something drastic, the way she stood before the mirror with her hands outstretched as though she was going to shatter it. The way her chest heaved wildly and her eyes widened, Voldemort knew he had caught her in a compromising position, and whatever it was she had been preparing to do, he no longer trusted her alone.

Somehow though, Voldemort wondered if her silent offering of herself to him last night spoke for newfound devotion. She no longer cringed away from him, but stared at him through adoring eyes that plead for him to take her.

She wore a dress of dark red that hugged her curves, accentuating her slim waist and that pushed her breasts up creating tremendous cleavage. Again, her hair was up, giving Voldemort a view of her long neck and prominent clavicle. Gazing down at the swell of her breasts, she swallowed, wanting nothing more than to reach out and let a finger stroke her collarbone.

"You look very…" he trailed off no sooner than he realized the word that had almost slipped from his mouth. The word beautiful was not something Voldemort had uttered aloud in reference to nothing expect his darling Nagini, and as he realized he was on the verge of paying her compliment, this girl who was inferior to him he wanted to scream once again, anger flooding his thin body.

"Thank you." Billie responded, bowing her head and glancing away from him. In that moment, Voldemort's anger dissolved and he found himself staring at her shoulders, which were exposed. Such soft skin, he had to have it.

"Come, we are expected." He spoke quickly, spinning on his heel so that he would no longer have to look at her.

As Voldemort walked, he could hear her footsteps behind him, footsteps that padded softly in pumps that added height to her 5'4'' frame. Stepping in front of Voldemort, she swung her hips, and he let his eyes drop down to her backside which was outlined by the tight garment. Turning slightly, she let her chin come to rest on her shoulder for just a moment as she gazed back at Voldemort. He took the opportunity to take in her profile, a nose that from the side, angled off straightly. Gazing from above the creamy skin of her lily white shoulder, she looked a dream, a dream that he could no longer try and fight.

"May I?" Voldemort asked, extending a hand, and Billie stopped, spinning around to face him. As she did so, he noticed for the first time that she was wearing cosmetics, her large eyes lined by dark liner that gave her a smoky and sensuous appearance. Her thick lashes were coated in black mascara, which fanned out daringly as if urging him to come to her, and her lips sported a stunning red that begged to be kissed.

Voldemort did not know how he had not noticed before, for now, he could not stop staring at her. In his stunned fervor he had not even noticed that he had actually asked her permission for something.

"What? Yes, I suppose although I am not sure what you are talking about." She said quietly, and Voldemort stepped in, grasping her wrist gently. Taking the opportunity, he allowed himself to slide an arm around her small waist, coming so close that he found himself enveloped in her sultry scent.

The minute his hand came in contact with the small of her back, Billie let out the smallest of gasps and looked up, right into his eyes. The moment their pupils met, he couldn't think, he couldn't feel, he couldn't speak, he could do nothing but stand there, grasping her body and inhaling her luscious scent.

She was warm, her large chest rising and falling before him, bosom skimming his own frame. With everything he had, he fought to raging desire that threatened to consume him. He wanted to throw her up against the wall and free her breasts from the tight dress that clung to every single curve on her body. He wanted to bring her nipples between his teeth and listen to her coo softly in his ear.

Voldemort wanted to feel her wetness, he wanted to slide his long fingers in between her folds and feel what he had done to her, he wanted to know that he aroused her and that she wanted him. It was powerful, overwhelming, and damn near impossible to ignore his screaming desire.

Reaching out against his will, Voldemort grabbed a loose lock of hand, taking it between his slender fingers and just grazing her skin with his wrist. In response, her hand shot up and clamped around his bony wrist, and Voldemort glanced down, immediately angered and disgusted at the fact that she dare touching.

As her eyelashes fluttered, he tore himself from her with a snarl. She was scum, she was dirt, she was mongrel filth brought about from two parents who dared betray the Wizarding world by sharing its secrets. Indeed she was attractive, that he was not afraid to admit but she was beneath him, an object of disgust rather than desire.

Grapping her wrist with force, Voldemort Apparated into the grand dining room of the home, appearing before his loyal subjects, all sitting at a large table with bated breath as he arrived. Immediately, the air became tense and ripe with fear, a silence so heavy that it screamed deafeningly throughout the chamber. Beside him, Voldemort shifted his gaze quickly as he noticed Billie lean forward, gasping and swaying dangerously.

Ignoring her discomfort, he silently hoped she would not heave in front of his followers and force him to kill her. Like a dutiful slave however, she straightened up, taking a deep breath and holding her head high, jaw clenched tightly. It was such a scene of admiration that he could not help but turn and face her.

"Bellatrix, move." He commanded softly, not even turning from Billie even as murmurs of confusion crossed the room without his permission. He wanted her beside him, a king deserved a queen. He wanted her next to him so that not only he could bask in her glory, but so that his fellow men could gaze upon her beauty with awe and wonder and feel envious of their master. He wanted Bellatrix to see what true loveliness looked like.

"My Lord?" her eyes widened incredulously, and with a flick of his wand, Voldemort yanked the chair from under her, smiling cruelly as Bellatrix collapsed to the ground with an audible yelp. Like a wounded pup she lay there for a moment, before standing up, pale face streaked with red and eyes darting back and forth with fear.

No one dared laugh without his permission, however all Voldemort needed for satisfaction in this act was to look over and see the small grin that crossed the red lips of his guest. Arms crossed, her eyes danced brilliantly with evident sadistic glee in Bellatrix's humiliation.

"Sit." Voldemort said quietly, and Billie looked up at him, this time her eyes shining with what could only be admiration. Smiling slightly, she walked over to the seat and sat down, crossing her legs elegantly and paying no mind to the wounded Bellatrix that stood behind her, chest heaving wildly. Throwing a look of complete and utter contempt at Billie, Bellatrix stormed across the room and found an empty chair, before sitting down. Voldemort had to admit, her anger was all the more amusing, and he knew that this would be the prime night to give her a task and let her fury dance dangerously.

Glancing across room, Voldemort studied the faces of his men. Their eyes continuously darted back and forth towards Billie, and he could see the thoughts and inquiries that passed through their minds. What were his plans for her? Was she of any importance? Why was he keeping her alive?

And infuriatingly enough, Voldemort himself did not know the answer to these questions. All he knew was that he could not bring himself to point his wand and mutter the curse he had cast so many times. No, he needed to keep her alive—for the time being—until he got the chance to have a little taste of such a fine morsel. Just a taste, what harm could that do?

He saw succumbing to primal urge and instinct as a weakness. After all, a ruler who could rule himself could be not ruler at all, but after so long, what would it hurt? And a specimen so willing, so…lovely. Just one time could not be his undoing.

"Should I bring the prisoner My Lord?" a voice spoke, and Voldemort turned, gazing down at the rodent-like man who cowered before him. Saying nothing, Voldemort merely stared at Wormtail before a smile crossed his lips in anticipation of a little play time, the chance to unleash his fury and make an example of a spineless subservient worm who had betrayed him.

"Yes Wormtail, bring our dear friend in." he breathed coldly, then sat down in his chair, resting his arms on the armrests. As the little man scurried away, Voldemort observed his retreating form with ever present astonishment. Despite his evident cowardice, the man had been one of his most loyal servants, scurrying back even when he knew it meant pain. Throughout each step of the way, he did things that repulsed even Voldemort himself, and he was as thankful as he could be in the sense of the world.

If Wormtail had not been so incompetent he would have perhaps rewarded him with better missions, letting him go out into the field and lead his men with the likes of Bellatrix and Crouch. He was an asset, no matter how irritating the very sight of him was, and had been there when no one else had.

The room was silent, each and every Death Eater sitting and waiting nervously, anxiously for what was to happen. Suddenly, the echo of screams began to flood the room, and Voldemort watched as some of his men tensed, and others sat up, looking towards the door to see who would emerge. It was Billie though, who remained seated where she was, staring across the room blankly as though completely unfazed by the sounds of torment that drew his attention, and stayed it even as Wormtail dragged the screeching figure into the room and his screams drowned out the entire chamber.

Pulling out his wand, Voldemort silently cast a silencing charm, and immediately Igor Karkaroff's screams became muted, his mouth open with nothing coming out. Eyes wide, he stared and bucked, glancing up at The Dark Lord in horror as Wormtail hoisted up his frame and threw him onto the table.

"Well well, Karkaroff how nice of you to join us at last. I began to think you would never come." Voldemort said coldly, lifting the silencing charm. The moment he did, Karkaroff's pathetic pleas filled the room, and he fell forward, scraggly hair falling in front of his gaunt face.

His attempt to flee had taken a toll of his already unkempt looks, greasy hair falling in messy tangles around his face as that prideful beard reduced to a gray-streaked rat's nest, speckled with various objects. Leaning forward, Voldemort looked at his former follower. Indeed, he had always seen the weakness in his eyes, the sheer pusillanimity. Indeed, he would have expected betrayal from such a worthless weakling.

"No, no, I'm sorry My Lord, please I was going to come to you I swear!" he sobbed, and Voldemort did not hesitate in raising his wand and pointing it at his from, before casting the Cruciatus Curse.

Immediately Karkaroff began to writhe in pain, shrieking in agony as the curse assaulted every fiber of his being, encasing him in pain.

Fear flooded the room, fear so immense that it spoke louder than words ever could. Each and every one of his Death Eaters knew that if they made one mistake, this could be them. They could be laying before him, screaming for mercy and begging that their lives would be spared deep down knowing that they wouldn't be.

It was empowering, to be able to instill that kind of fear into the hearts of men who considered themselves above all others. Lifting his wand lazily, Voldemort leaned forward, watching as Karkaroff twitched and shrunk away from him.

"North of Britain. I dare say you got farther than I anticipated. Severus was sure to tell me of your plans to escape however-"

"He lies! Severus Snape is a spy for Dumbledore he deceives you My Lord."

"Then why, worthless servant do you not appear to me until now, legs bound together. Do not lie to Lord Voldemort." He hissed, and immediately Karkaroff fell silent.

Yes, Severus' supposed deception. It was an allegation which had been spat many a time, generally when he outed someone to Voldemort but he had looked into the man's mind, he had seen all there was to see, and he knew that Severus served him, and only him. By far, he was Voldemort's most valuable and faithful servent, and he trusted him.

"I was going to come back to you, I-I needed time."

"Time Karkaroff? Time for what?"

"I was under the eye of the Ministry and Albus Dumbledore. If I had left then they would have known!"

"Indeed they would have known. Let the world know that Lord Voldemort has risen and that you serve him. You shame me Karkaroff. You bear my mark on your arm yet you bear no allegiance to me. Perhaps it should be removed."

"What? No! No! I beg of you, My Lord please n-AHHHHHHHH."

The moment Voldemort pointed his wand at the flesh, an invisible knife light with flame dragged across his skin, outlining the Dark Mark and peeling the chunk clean right out of his arm.

A soft gasp next to Voldemort quickly drew his attention from the scene before him, and he glanced at Billie to find her sitting up on the edge of her chair, legs crossed tightly with her teeth sunk into her bottom lip as she stared at Karkaroff. Her eyes were wide, almost as if she was enjoying this display of sheer cruelty.

Lifting his wand, Voldemort stopped, and glanced over at Karkaroff's arm, which was no missing a chunk of skin where the Dark Mark once rested. Tucking his wand into his robes, he stood up quickly, gazing at his remaining followers.

"Bellatrix, Fenrir, take his body to the Shrieking Shack and cast the Dark Mark, and do leave enough for him to be identified, mutt." He commanded, then looked down at Billie. Turning her head, she stared up at him, breasts heaving against the neckline of her dress.

Without being told, she stood up as well and followed him, without a word as they departed the room and ascended the stairs.

* * *

Billie lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling of her four-post. Tilting her head slightly, she bent her legs, bringing them up as her hands rested on her stomach gently.

She could not stop thinking about the events which had transpired earlier that day. The torture of the man known as Karkaroff, the way her captor spoke to him so cruelly and calmly as he toyed with him, like a fly with its wings ripped off.

It had stirred something in her, awakening a part of Billie that had never come alive before. She wanted to see more, she wanted to feel more. She felt excitement, she felt glee as she watched this man who she knew not, beginning for his life. A sadistic part of her that lay dormant grew more pronounced, and she became aware of the sensation of arousal that began to take over.

He was so cruel, merciless, and Billie wondered what it would be like for him to abuse her, call her worthless and torture her in a way that would not only bring incredible pain, but immense pleasure. She wanted to give herself to Lord Voldemort, body and soul, and become his to do with what he wanted. She wanted to be his.

Just the thought brought about a dull ache in her panties, and reaching down, Billie let her fingers slide into her undergarments, touching herself lightly. She wasn't afraid anymore, she wasn't sad anymore, she was _alive_, and she wanted him to feel her.

Rubbing her sex, Billie dipped a finger into herself, moaning lightly as she grazed her throbbing walls, which continued to grow slick with the thought of being taken. She wondered, what he would be like. His size, his shape. Would he be uncircumcised? Large? Small? Wide? Thin?

Ever so gently with her other hand, Billie brushed her clitoris, arching her back the moment the grazed the sensitive pearl.

The sounds of a foreign presence startled her, barely a whisper of inhuman feet on the carpeted floor. Sitting up, Billie turned toward the door and flushed in horror as Lord Voldemort stood at the entrance, simply standing in place and staring at her with that cold menacing look he always wore.

She had been thinking about him. She had been _fantasizing _about him, and as he stood now before her she was so ashamed that she looked away quickly, glancing down at the duvet intently and studying the miniscule stitches that could not be seen by the naked eye.

The silence was heavy and overbearing, threatening to weigh down and crush her as she sat on the bed, yanking her dress down over her panties and crossing her arms over her chest, hardened nipples exposed through thin fabric.

"What do you want?" she asked to the air, not daring herself to look up.

Suddenly, a cold breeze seemed to blow through the room, and with a _pop _Lord Voldemort stood no longer at the doorway, but before her beside the bed. Sitting down on the edge, he leaned forward, an icy cold hand just brushing the skin of her upper arm and causing her to shiver in a mixture of excitement and fear.

"What are you doing?" Billie asked.

"Speak when spoken to." He snapped sharply, and she looked up, only to find herself staring right into his soulless eyes, so close. Without warning, he leaned in and pressed his lips to her own fiercely, and Billie accepted him eagerly, an explosion powering through her body and threatening to break her.

Tilting her head back, Billie opened her mouth, ready and waiting to accept his tongue and urging him to penetrate her mouth. The kiss was powerful, dominant, and she fell submissive to the whiles of her new master, ready and willing to give herself to him completely.

Suddenly, Voldemort pulled away and stood up, staring at her through dark eyes that burned with hatred. Sitting forward, Billie reached out for his robes, wanting to pull him back to her but he said nothing, flying across the room with his robes trailing behind him then disappearing, leaving Billie more confused than ever.


	5. Growing Insanity

**A/N: I DO NOT own **_**Harry Potter**_**. **

**Growing Insanity**

Voldemort sat beside Billie's bed, staring down at her sleeping form. Her chest rose and fell softly in spaced increments, her luscious brown waves falling around her pale skin as she rested quietly on her side.

She looked like an angel in every true sense of the meaning. Her white skin was vibrant, her cheeks rich and lush. The most dazzling were her intoxicating lips, plump and red, begging to be kissed. He longed to run his fingertip across her bottom lip and let her suck on it gently.

He wondered what she dreamt of, eyes shifting slowly beneath her delicate eyelids. Her thick eyelashes framed closed eyes. It was arousing, everything she did was arousing even in all its simplicity. Trailing his eyes downward, Voldemort glanced down at Billie's full breasts, eyeing her cleavage. How it would feel to bring her nipples between his lips and watch her arch her back before him.

The thought was enough to drive him over the edge. The previous night she had accepted his advance willfully. When he penetrated her mouth and tasted her sweet tongue a surge of sexual arousal powered through Lord Voldemort, one that had lay dormant for years. Her lips were soft, her mouth warm, and the way her body responded to him let him know that he indeed had power over her.

With each passing day his lust grew. The previous night he had sat up, attempting to squander such thoughts only to give up hopelessly. How could he in the face of a woman who stood as the epitome of sex? Everything from her soft curves to her powerful sexuality pulled at him. Whenever he was around her vicious unadulterated thoughts flooded his mind, and he could think of nothing but her intoxicating taste, scent, and feel. He longed to have her, but not just have her. He wanted her to be his totally and completely.

Tom Riddle had lost his virginity to an older woman in an attempt to weed a bit of valuable information out of her. He had been 17 years and working at Borgin & Burkes. On a house visit, he had become acclimated with her, and as a result came to know Hepzibah Smith. That night, Tom remembered feeling nothing as he moved on top of him. He could feel none of the passion that was to be expected with such encounters, and maintained his erection only with thoughts of violence in his head.

And violence was exactly what he longed for. He wanted a woman that he could dominate totally and completely, and he could think of none other than Billie. Her innocence rivaled her powerful sexuality. He could not believe she was a virgin, not the way she carried herself. The way she thrust out her large breasts and arched her back, demanding his attention. She was doing it on purpose, that he knew.

Her eyes did not twinkle with the loathsome adoration of Bellatrix, but instead boasted of a woman who knew she was desirable, and who wanted to belong to someone. She would not grovel, and still she remained insolent, yet at the same time she yearned for him. He knew he was not imagining her advances, they were very much real. He had killed her entire family but mere days ago, and here she was willing to succumb to his every whim. She wanted exactly what he wanted to give her.

Leaning over, Voldemort extended his hand, letting it hover just above her neck. He was so tempted to clamp down, letting her smooth flesh run beneath his cold palm. He wanted her to awaken to his touch, and longed to see the panic in her eyes as he pressed down on her windpipe, letting her know that he was in charge and she was to obey his whiles. Then, he would climb on top of her and taste the sweet nectar between her slim thighs, and she would cry out for him, spreading her legs all the more eagerly. And although she was under his command, Voldemort would allow her to do so. After all, what man, mortal or dark wizard did not want to hear the mews of satisfaction that came with is ministrations?

And then, he would bind her arms and legs so that she could not move, and plunge into her wet folds, pounding into her roughly without mercy so that each thrust drew both a cry of pleasure and pain from her lips. He wanted to hurt her, letting red lashes from his wand land against her soft buttocks. He wanted to listen to her cry but more than anything he wanted her to say his name and beg him for more.

The simple thought sent a rush of blood towards the Dark Lord's nether regions, and Voldemort paused, utterly horrified at what had become of him. His loins churned furiously with the thought of being enveloped in the young girl's cunt. As glorious and ghastly as it was, he could not deny just how much he wanted her.

And especially now while she lay vulnerable and oblivious, eyes closed. He wondered what she dreamed of as she slumbered. Did she have nightmares? Nightmares involving him? Or did he dream of twisted sadistic things, such as the glee she exhibited when he had tortured Karkaroff before her very eyes. Ah, yes. The sharp intake of breath as she leaned forward and crossed her legs, staring eagerly at a man's misfortune. It was more than he could have ever dreamed.

Decades without a woman and finally he was faced with the opportunity. But she wouldn't be a sniveling wretch, she was a seductive siren who shared his affinity for pain as part of pleasure. She wanted to be dominated, and he longed for someone _to _dominate. It was so perfect in all ways but one.

Her filthy family. The bloodlines that had mingled with the likes of Muggles, the parents who threatened to expose the wizarding world to those who did not have a stake in it. He did not care about her innocence in the matter, only about getting revenge on her traitorous family in both death and life.

Just as anger began to build within him, a small twitch in the back of his mind drew his attention. Turning his head sharply, Voldemort stood and wondered with irritation the reason he was being summoned by the Dark Mark. As he stepped from the chair he stopped, eyes drawn to a small splash of color in the corner of the room.

Sitting in a vase on a small desk was a dying lily, with wilted petals that dropped sadly. Picking up the lone flower, Voldemort twirled it between his thin fingers then glanced over at Billie, silently thinking.

She was dark and beautiful, just like the blackest of roses. Unique, dangerous, and weak. A rose could be broken with a simple snap of its stem. Its leaves could be stripped unceremoniously, its petals burned beneath flame. Yet it remained regal and beautiful in its true form, just as she did.

Taking the lily, Voldemort held it up then cast a silent transfiguration spell. Slowly, the dying flower began to shift and twist into a long-stemmed rose with jet black petals and sharp thorns. Holding it carefully, he placed it on the pillow beside Billie then took a step back, disappearing from the room with a loud _pop_!

* * *

Billie awoke with the start, rolling over as what sounded like a gunshot tore her from her slumber. Her momentary confusion was only enhanced when a sharp prick stabbed her in the cheek, wakening her completely.

Sitting up, her hand flew to the sensitive flesh and Billie looked down only to find a black rose. Picking it up, she studied it carefully. Its petals were velvety soft, its thorns razor sharp. It was crafted like a work of art from perhaps Satan himself, beautiful, luxurious, and dark. And in that, she knew that only one person could have given it to her.

Him.

He must have given it to her. There was no other explanation.

He was never far from her mind. In the few hours since their kiss, her body had been driven wild with thoughts of having him. After he had departed from her room, she tossed and turned in the sheets, unable to stop herself from fantasizing about a forceful encounter with him.

Everything about the kiss had been so powerful, so passionate. It was the most exciting moment of her young life, nothing had compared to the moment which seemed to blast away all memories of the past. He had been forceful, commanding, and she wondered in the moment if perhaps he might kill her. It was that moment of constantly wondering about her fate that excited her.

He wanted her. That may have been the most important thing to Billie. She had successfully caught a man in her wares, even a man as terrifying and heinous as himself. But there was something she could not quite put her finger on. When she looked past his looks, it was almost as though she could see the remnants of a handsome man behind them. Did he look different once upon a time? She could not help but wonder, and was certain that he must have been quite fetching.

He was a wizard, an evil one at that. Billie was not sure if he had cast some sort of spell on her to capture her affections, nevertheless he had succeeded. She now wanted him more than anything she could think of, although she remained less disturbed with the thought that it was merely on a sexual level, not an emotional level.

Sitting on the bed, she looked around. She was not certain how long she was to remain captive in this place, but with each passing moment Billie became more and more flighty. She needed something to do that did not involve being in the presence of people who were expecting her death to come at any point and time. She could hear the whispers, they all wondered for what purpose she was being kept alive. Billie was certain that even Lord Voldemort did not know, but at this moment she decided she should simply remain grateful that she was. Her brief flirtation with suicide helped her settle her mind on the issue. She would remain here, but not without anything to show for it.

Swinging her legs over the side of the bed Billie set her feet on the ground and made her way across the room. She longed for a nice warm bath, where she could envelope herself beneath water and close her eyes for an hour or so. She made a note to ask her captor Lord Voldemort. Even more enticing would be if she asked him to join her. Billie could only imagine dangling her legs against the edge of the tub while his eyes roamed her body.

Collapsing on the bed once more it occurred to Billie that she was restless. She was cooped up, and spent most of her time sleeping. What else was she to do? In her short time here she had nothing else, to do but sit and wallow in self-loathing. She needed to get out. What exactly was she here if not be killed or be put to some sort of use? She could not be used as leverage, anyone that give a damn was dead.

No matter what, Billie found it nearly impossible to stop the inkling of longing that crept in her heart for Lord Voldemort. Yes, she still hated him for what he had done to her and her loved ones. She wanted to rake her nails across his face and make him suffer the same pain that she had. But she also could not step herself from desiring him.

The others, however, were a completely different story. Particularly the one who had slaughtered two innocent girls alive. As Billie contemplated, loathing filled her heart and she could think of nothing more satisfying than revenge in some sort. But what vengeance could a lone girl have against a group of bold and powerful wizards with an affinity for sadism?

A subtle thump on her door tore her from her thoughts, and Billie padded across the room, hesitating for a moment. He never knocked, who could it possibly be? Grasping the door handle tightly, she took a deep breath before swinging it open only to find herself staring into thin air.

Her momentary confusion was short-lived as the sound of loud hissing erupted through the hall. Freezing in her spot, Billie did not dare look down as she felt cold scales slip past her bare ankles, a cylindrical form weaving past her and into the room.

The massive serpent inspired nothing but fear in her heart. The way Lord Voldemort conversed with the creature caught her off guard. He said that he could speak to her, and indeed, Billie had heard the series of hisses that slid off his tongue. Even more horrifying was the way that the giant snake replied, looking into his eyes. Sometimes she would move her head as though nodding or shaking. This creature had to be supernatural, there was no other way to describe it, and for all Billie tried to maintain a brave face, she was terrified.

Standing on her toes, she glanced down momentarily as the snake weaved across the floor. Unsure of what to do, Billie simply stood there, wondering if the monstrous creature was going to slither around her neck and simply choke the life out of her then and there. Was it here on his command so he did not have to get his hands dirty? As far as Billie had seen, for the most part Lord Voldemort's servants did his killing for him.

Glancing down at the floor once more, Billie tensed as the snake stopped, turning and facing her through slit eyes. Flicking out its tongue it hissed at her, seemingly daring her to do anything but stand there. And being anything but foolish, Billie stayed in her spot, doing her hardest not to look as horrified as she was.

"Is there something you want?' she croaked, knowing that she could not communicate with the thing as her captor did. As though taunting her, the snake slithered over to her legs, winding around her ankles and flicking its tongue against her calves so that she twitched anxiously.

Slowly, the creature wound its way up Billie's leg and she flinched, on the verge of screaming. She shook timidly. She had never been afraid of snakes, in fact, outside of the zoo she had never come across them although there was always something sinister about the race. Perhaps it was their fabled participation in the Christian fall of man, or their representation of evil in other races. Whatever it was, Billie felt uneasy every time she saw one of the yellow-eyed creatures. But this was nothing she could have ever imagined.

Her heart pounded in her chest rapidly and her breath quickened with each passing second as the snake's grip grew tighter on her thigh. Its thick frame coiled around her flesh squeezing tightly to hold itself up and Billie wondered if it was possible for the thing to crush her femoral artery. Indeed, with each subtle constriction the area pulsated noticeably.

It had to be some sort of test. She didn't know what this animal wanted or why, but Billie was certain her survival depended on acting rationally in the moment and not allowing herself to lose control. Just as the thought flickered though her head, Nagini hissed loudly, causing Billie to tense so that she pressed her thighs together and the snake bared its fangs at her.

Dropping her hands to her sides she remained frozen in her spot, wondering how much longer she would be subjected to this torture. Staring in front of her, she made certain not to look down at it and straightened her back slightly.

Suddenly, Nagini turned her head to the door as if being called, before unwinding herself from Billie's leg and slithering off without hesitation. Immediately, Billie collapsed to the floor and brought her legs to her chest, shuddering wildly as tears pierced her eyes. Her stomach churned furiously and she rocked back and forth, biting her lip so that she would not release the scream that was building within her. That was the worst torture she could have ever possibly imagined, and she wondered over and over again if He was behind it.

She was in hell, truly in hell with the devil himself, and nothing at the moment would have been better than for her to run screaming for her live. She needed to escape, she needed to get out of there. It was a wake-up call. She was playing with fire, allowing herself to associate with a man who she knew killed without the slightest provocation. She was dancing with the devil himself, kicking the hornet's nest.

And if she intended to survive, she would have to wise up, and do it quickly.

* * *

Voldemort sat before the fire with Nagini in his lap, stroking her tenderly as he mused in contemplation. Beneath his pale hands, his loyal companion hummed in satisfaction, her head resting delicately on his arm.

The whispers were growing. It would be time to reveal himself and soon. With each moment that passed Voldemort stood in danger of the Potter boy catching him unaware and peering into his thoughts. He could not have that. Besides, the time was upon them to finally grab hold of the prophecy so he could hear it himself once and for all. It was not that he did not trust Severus, but it did not serve the same purpose as hearing the prediction himself. Rumors were spreading across the country, fear was beginning to take root in people's hearts as the Ministry foolishly attempted to squander all talk of his return. What better to give the gift of his public appearance to the people? And soon.

_The time has come for us to emerge glorious once more Nagini._ Voldemort hissed, glancing down at her. Looking up, she met his eyes and opened her mouth, baring her fangs and tilting her head to the side.

_What of the girl?_ She asked, and he looked away. Yes, the girl.

For a moment he said nothing, silently thinking about his captive. Was he to emerge with her at his side? He could teach her magic, he was certain she would be skilled. Yet she still remained insolent, and just hint of doubt about her loyalty changed his mind. He would not have her betray him, although she was weak. But what it would be to reveal himself with a beautiful woman at his side, more powerful and deadly than imaginable. Bellatrix had already established herself yes, but she was one of his servants, not a companion.

_I do not know_. He replied honestly. It was only to Nagini that he ever revealed his most honest thoughts.

_You care for her. You are becoming weak_.

At this he glanced down, hissing sharply in retaliation.

_Watch your tongue my dear. I could kill you with the squeeze of my hands._

_But you will not. You need me. _

_Do I? Do you forget that you are a mere puppet to me Nagini? For possession as I please?_

At this Nagini remained silent. Voldemort smiled, stroking her gently. Could he ever part from his dear companion?

_The girl may be of some use to us in the future, and she will do what she can to please me. _He explained, forgoing their spat.

_She is weak. I terrified her earlier today and she stood frozen in her footsteps like a shadow. She could not even move. _

_I told you that you are not to see her when I am not present. She is terrified because she has not been molded yet. I will create her into something Nagini. She has a desire to be broken and I am willing to break her. Besides, you know it has been long since I have…touched a woman. _

_What of me?_

He chuckled, gazing down at her tenderly.

_Do not fret my dear you will always be the most beautiful of all._

* * *

Billie glanced herself over in the mirror carefully, taking a moment to run her fingers through her dark locks. Furrowing her brow she carefully debated whether to put her hair up or leave it down. She did not know what the night would amount to, she only knew that He had requested her presence.

In that, she was dressed in the pair of jeans and shirt she had arrived in which had been cleaned, all stains removed. Sighing, Billie finally put her hair up, pinning it on top of her head then took one last glance at herself in the mirror.

He had asked that she accompany him somewhere, the location she did not know. In fact, He had not even asked her himself, but through the off-putting servant Wormtail who had a habit of making Billie's stomach churn whenever he was around her. With his silver mechanical arm and the way he constantly twitched she could only think of the desire she had to get as far away from the man (who reminded her very much of a rat) as possible.

Biting her lip, Billie took her locks down one final time before putting her hair in a simple low ponytail. Perhaps that would suffice. She wished in earnest she had something more besides a pair of jeans and the white-button down men's shirt she wore. After all, what kind of impression could she make dressed in a pair of jeans? She was not after a teenage boy but a man, who seemed to pride himself on elegance (in females that was). Billie very much doubted he would be interested in the ager teen she appeared to be in her casual clothing, and once more wished he had left out something else for her to wear.

She had no more time to fret however, as a loud crack resonated through the room and Billie turned to find Lord Voldemort standing before her, his arms open and a sinister smile spread across his taut face.

"Don't you ever knock?" Billie asked boldly, wanting to challenge him. Facing him adamantly she crossed her arms, watching in satisfaction as the smile disappeared from his face. Would he punish her for her insolence? How so? Her only thoughts were the way he had grabbed her arm during dinner those two nights ago, and shocked her into submission. She wanted to feel that mixture of pain, pleasure, and fear once more. The pleasure that came with knowing he could do whatever he wanted to her, and she would be forced to accept it.

"You would do best to show some respect before Lord Voldemort." He hissed sharply, eyes glowing dangerously and Billie tucked her hands behind her back, sticking out her chest and jutting out her hip in a way that looked like an innocent schoolgirl. Verbal correction couldn't be it. She was waiting for him to fly across the room and grasp her violently.

Much to her disappointment however, Lord Voldemort remained in his spot. Shoulders sinking visibly Billie's hands dropped to her sides and she waited for instruction and details as the where they would be headed. As expected, she noticed his eyes flickered over her clothing with evident distaste, however when he stopped at her hips she felt an inkling of gratefulness. After all, a pair of tight jeans did wonders for the body, and Billie knew that that specific pair put her assets on display quite well.

"Where will we be going?" Billie asked cautiously. Irritation flickered on her captor's face but he answered the question nonetheless.

"You will see shortly. If you are ready, take my arm and we can depart."

When he spoke his voice was almost soft. Billie was certain it was as close to tender as he could possibly get. Or perhaps he simply had no particular reason to feel displeased in that moment. Whatever it was she could not deny her adoration for him in that moment. She wanted to fall into his arms and hear him whisper terrible things in her ear. She wanted him to claim her right there and then.

But these thoughts remained silent within the mind of a young woman, and without a word she let her hand fall atop his, despite the command to take his arm.

His hand was icy cold beneath her fingertips and she shivered caught in a state of oblivion. Her heart pounded in her chest and Billie wondered how it would feel to have those hands on her soft body. Jerking from her touch he curled his hand into a fist much to her embarrassment and shoved it inside his robes, leaving Billie a flushed mess. Feeling heat rise in her cheeks she looked down, clenching Lord Voldemort's arm tightly and wishing now that she had worn her hair down instead of tied behind her face.

She did not have much time to dwell on it for within a matter of seconds Billie was thrown into a raging whirlpool of colors and sounds, seemingly yanked from her navel and spun about wildly until she was thrown into the night. Immediately nausea settled in her stomach so severe she doubled over, certain she was going to retch all over the ground.

It was the absence of food in her stomach that saved her as Billie dry-heaved, trying to catch her breath and settle herself all at once as her body shook. She was not aware of the body behind her, leaning over and gently placing a hand on the back of her neck as she straightened herself and clutched her stomach.

"Fucking hell." She swore under her breath, trying to stop the world form spinning. As things settled down, Billie looked around and found that she was not back in the bedroom, but in some unfamiliar place surrounded by darkness. Spinning around, her eyes roamed back and forth before settling on an eerie graveyard that looked like something out of a horror movie.

"Come." Lord Voldemort said and Billie suddenly remembered he was there. In that moment she wanted to kick herself. She had appeared so damn weak in front of him. Not just weak, completely and utterly pathetic. What had she been thinking? She had completely forgotten about his presence.

Not even so much as looking at him she glanced down at her feet and waited for him to begin towards the cemetery. Much to her surprise, he grabbed her elbow gently and led her along as if making sure she did not fall ill once more. Involuntarily she leaned in towards him, unable to resist being closer to his cool form. And just that once he did not shy away from her as expected.

The night was humid, a dense god creeping around the graves like sinister tendrils. As they set into the cemetery Billie could feel her hair stand on end. Her body tensed with fear as they found themselves surrounded by the dead. It seemed as if any moment the corpses would arise from the ground, breaking through the earth to wreak havoc on the world above.

Once upon a time Billie would have thought the idea of zombies foolish and impossible, yet here she was standing beside a wizard. She no longer knew what was possible and what was not.

Without a word Lord Voldemort dropped Billie's elbow, stepping in front of her. His robes swept across the ground silently, feet barely more than a whisper in the dark. He glided across the grass in a way that was most inhuman. Billie kept closely behind him, certain than if they were separated some grave tragedy would ensue. She resisted the urge to reach out and grasp his hand, knowing that would probably lead to an even worse tragedy.

After walking in silence for several moments they finally ended up before a small raggedy headstone, barely noticeable and covered in leafy sprigs and weeds. Glancing down at it, Billie tried to read the engraved letters which were caked with dirt and dust, along with years of wear and tear.

**MEROPE GAUNT**

"Gaunt?" she murmured aloud beneath her breath, letting her curiosity get the best of her.

"My mother." A voice said soft and coldly beside her. Almost jumping Billie turned to face her escort who stared at the tombstone blankly, his face completely devoid of emotion. As his devilish eyes peered at the name, Billie fought with herself to ask any questions which had the potential to set her captor off.

"How did she die?" she dared, voice suddenly dry. Slowly, Lord Voldemort looked up at her with eyes that threatened to melt her where she stood. She yearned to bring the question back, stopping herself from ever asking it but he answered before she had time to fret any further.

"She was weak. Too weak to save her own life." He spoke, anger hinting in his tone. Billie knew she had gone too far and wondered how the rectify the situation. Thinking on the situation she swiftly posed another question, one she was certain would steer his attention in another path.

"Where is your father?"

And in that moment, Billie knew that she had done some incredible wrong. His eyes seemed to glow like hot coals, mouth bared in absolute fury as he raised his hand. In slow motion, Billie watched as his mouth moved subtly, lips barely even moving as his long fingers stretched outwards towards her.

Billie fell to the ground, her body wrapped in unbearable pain that threatened to rip through the very fiber of her being. Every single inch of her was on fire, every muscle writhed in horrid agony as she rolled onto her side, screaming words that made no sense. She could think of nothing, she could hear nothing, she could see nothing. All she knew was the pain which continued to get worse each passing second. She wondered when it might be over as her nerves screamed out. The world was spinning around her and for a moment Billie wondered if she had died and been sent to some fiery underworld which wrapped around her veins. She was to suffer for the rest of her life.

And just when she thought it would be over, the pain receded and she fell in a heap, achiness coursing throughout her body. Clutching a handful of grass Billie closed her eyes, tears streaming down her face as she panted and tried to catch her breath, body still aflame.

"Do not ask questions that you do not understand foolish girl." Lord Voldemort hissed above her, before grabbing her arm and wrenching her so violently that she was certain he would dislocate her shoulder. She could not stand and collapsed to the ground once more, body stinging and throbbing all at once.

Face pressed against the dirt Billie heaved a breath, her body wracked with tears for the pain, and even more for the fact that he had just done this to her. Why? What had she done? Before she could linger on the sorrowful thoughts any longer however she was pulled by her ankle and dragged through the grass unceremoniously. A pale hand closed around her wrist and once more, she was subjected to a whirlwind of sights and sounds only to emerge in the bedroom that had become her prison.

Falling to the ground she turned her head and dared herself to look up at Lord Voldemort who sneered coldly in return. Upper lip curled in disgust he stared right at her before disappearing from the room with the now-familiar _pop_, leaving Billie a wretched mess on the floor.


	6. Something New

**A/N: I DO NOT own any part of **_**Harry Potter**_**. BDSM scene here with some anal play. Not for the non-adventurous.**

**Something New**

Voldemort could see her writhing on the ground every time he closed his eyes. He could hear her screams, flooding the air around him. Her pain had been poison to him, and like poison, it ate away at his very soul.

Standing outside of her room he could not stop himself from envisioning her where she had lay, and he wanted to reach out, pin her down, and have her there. Right on the dirt-covered ground like the filth she was. Had he not been so absorbed in his anger he would have done that very thing. But instead, he could do nothing but think about it and regret now, wondering where this night may leave.

A part of him feared she would reject him as his hand lingered near her doorknob. After all, he had tortured her in the most brutal of ways. He could still see the look of pure fear and terror on her face when he had finally lifted the curse. She had flinched away from him. A part of him enjoyed the fact that she now knew what he could do and feared him so. Another part wondered if perhaps losing control as had would isolate her from him.

He had been unable to stop himself. The moment the word "father" had slipped from her beautiful mouth something had snapped inside of him, and Voldemort had done what was nature to him: he caused pain. And now? Would she loathe his very being? Would she still strive for his affections? Or would she leave him once more to the unpleasant attentions of Bellatrix?

Lord Voldemort very seldom regretted things in his life, but now was one of those rare moments where he thought of his actions and felt the slightest hint of remorse. The outcome had yet to be seen, but what good was a slave that was not willing? He enjoyed having a girl fawn over him every hour, a strong girl who served as a mixture of both adamant and submissive. To lose her would be not only upsetting, but how often would he come across a woman such as herself?

But if he had been right, she would have been able to withstand the pain, and would have found it arousing would she not? That would prove that she was the perfect slave. Thinking resolutely, Voldemort put his hand on the door then pushed it open, only to stop short in his tracks for what lay before him.

Billie was on her knees, face buried in the bed and body completely nude. With a hand between her thighs she thrust back and forward, moaning and moving her hand in between her legs. Her hair fell loose covering her face and Voldemort could not stop the rush of blood to his loins as he was caught off guard.

Standing in the doorway he simply watched her, listening to her moan while she ground her knees into the bed. With a flick of his hand he silently closed the door then walked over to the bed as if in a trance, staring down at her as she writhed in passion.

As she arched her back he looked at the knobs in her spine then shifted his attention to her perky and round backside. He wanted to bring one of his hands down onto her behind and feel her curves. But more than anything now he wanted to feel himself inside of her, pumping in and out while she cried out beneath him.

He watched her touch herself before she finally rolled on her back, eyes widening as they landed on him standing over the bed. The minute her eyes made contact with his own she sat up quickly, pushing her hair out of her face and covering herself, panting for breath and Voldemort gazed at her before finally opening his mouth to speak.

"Don't stop."

* * *

Billie could feel his eyes staring into her intently as she leaned back slowly, spreading her legs and turning her body so that he got a clear view of what lay before him. Brushing her clit, Billie bit her lip as she suppressed her moans, tilting her hips upward before taking another hand and plunging two fingers inside of herself. Moving in and out she arched her back then reached up and squeezed one of her breasts.

"I was thinking about you. Your cock inside of me." Billie whispered, pronouncing the word _cock _thoroughly. It was the truth. After their incident back at the graveyard Billie had found herself blossoming with a strange arousal that surprised and frightened her. As her panties grew wet she found herself throbbing and slipped her fingers into her panties as she imagined her captor pumping in and out of her with the harsh ferocity she had come to expect. And here he was sitting on the bed beside her.

It was the first time she had ever seen any sort of weakness in his face. She could read his eyes, and they told her that she had finally captured him in her snare. She had finally managed to grasp him just as she wanted, and Billie knew that there was no chance of him walking out on her this time.

She continued to touch herself as he looked on, feeling the heat of his eyes as they traveled the length of her body. It was exhilarating, and only furthered Billie's excitement more. Rubbing her clit she gasped while pleasure flowed throughout her. Touching one of her large breasts she toyed with a tender nipple, all the while coming closer and closer to her climax.

Billie silently prayed that he would touch her, although each moment passed he continued to sit there, staring without so much as making a move. Finally, as Billie's screams began to get higher Voldemort reached out and grasped one of her wrists. She shuddered under his icy touch, and watched with shaky and clenched legs as he brought her hand to his mouth and sucked on her fingers, licking off her wetness.

As Billie felt his tongue on her fingers she shuddered, clenching her thighs together. Sharp teeth caressed her flesh and his warm mouth sucked on her fingers before he pushed her hand back and stood up.

"Get up. Kneel." He suddenly commanded, voice steely.

Billie did as told, sitting up on her knees as her captor walked behind her and pulled out his wand. He muttered something and suddenly she found her wrists bound behind her back. As she tried to look she saw there were no physical cords, but when she tried to move her wrist she found them stubbornly held together by invisible manacles.

Her heart pounded in her chest, wondering as to what was in store. Pressing her thighs together Billie squirmed about, hanging on the edge of her orgasm. It would appear her captor truly was torturous as he bound her right before she was to come.

"Stop moving. Sit up straight." He suddenly spat harshly, and Billie did as told, straightening her back and kneeling completely still. Between her thighs she throbbed intensely, and with each breath a dull ache emanated from her swollen lips and clit. Before her, Lord Voldemort, simply stood gazing down at her before finally grasping at his black robes and lifting them over his head.

Billie's breath caught in her throat and she watched as he revealed himself to her. He was extremely thin, ribs protruding beneath white skin which covered a hairless body. Almost skeletal, in face. His arms revealed wiry biceps and veins which extended beneath pale flesh and lead to those spider-like hands and fingers. Immediately, she glanced down at his half-hardened member which lacked any pubic hairs.

Throwing his robe carelessly onto the ground Billie watched as he loomed above her, eyes staying hungrily to his cock which stood a good size. Grabbing himself he stepped towards her then put hand beneath her chin and tilted her head up to gaze at him.

"Open your mouth." He commanded.

She did as told, leaning forward without command and taking him in her mouth. Taking a moment Billie relaxed her throat then moved forward, taking him to the hilt and letting out a small moan which vibrated her throat and caused him to groan pleasurably in turn. Holding herself until she could no longer take it Billie jerked her head back and came up for air, licking the extra spittle from her full lips and dove in again.

After several moments Voldemort became completely hard in her throat and Billie took note of his moans as he tightened his fingers in her hair. Suddenly, he grabbed her head before holding himself firmly and thrusting into her mouth and down her throat without warning. Each time she gagged slightly, and each time he moved deeper until his balls brushed her lips. Billie closed her eyes, blinking away the watery tears that had welled up and stuck out her tongue to flick at his balls as best she could.

Each time she gagged he only bushed further, until her lips were swollen. Finally he stopped and released her, and it was only then Billie released that her scalp throbbed from where he had pulled her hair. Sitting back she moaned under her breath, wanting so badly to lay on her back and let her climax take her over but it seemed that was not going to happen.

"You will not come until I tell you to. You are my slave…and I am your master." He suddenly whispered, then pushed Billie back onto the bed. She nodded, gazing at his cock which had become completely hard thanks to her ministrations. As she rested on her back Billie closed her legs only to have them pried about roughly. Her master crawled on top of her then leaned down and buried his face in her neck, biting down and sucking on the skin roughly. With another hand he grabbed one of her breasts, pinching her erect nipple so that she cried out in both pain and pleasure at once.

Then, he twisted it painfully and continued to clench with his fingers for several moments before finally letting go. The moment Billie's nipple was released she could not help but scream aloud as blood rushed back to the area and with it a jolt of pain. Arching her back she clapped her hands together only to be pushed back down roughly.

Her master bent down and pressed his lips to her own brutally, shoving his tongue into her mouth unceremoniously and biting down on her bottom lip. Turning her head she clashed tongues with Voldemort, and he sat up before spitting into her mouth.

Billie stuck out her tongue and swallowed, gazing into his hateful eyes which were now full of passion. Never in her life had she been handled so roughly or excited so much. Each passing moment she curled her toes as she continued to hold off her orgasm as much as she could, although she was afraid that she was very close to letting go and coming in a way she never had before.

Then, he laid on his back and looked up at her.

"Get on top of me." He said quietly, and she did so, sitting up then straddling him while trying to maintain her balance with her bound hands. He grasped himself and Billie slowly lowered herself onto him, wishing she could use her hands to touch her body.

She felt more alive than she ever had before. A mixture of pleasure and pain seared through every part of her body and as Billie moved her hips, riding slowly she tilted her head back as the very world seemed to spin away from her. Grinding her hips Billie looked down, catching her breath each time his cock filled her to the hilt.

Putting his hands on her waist Voldemort pulled Billie down, sticking his tongue into her mouth sharply. She opened herself to him, breathing into his own. Moving his hands down ever so slowly he grasped her bottom, squeezing her ass and causing her to scream loudly.

"I'm going to come." She whined, unable to hold herself anymore. A part of her wondered what would happen if she did against his orders, and Billie got her taste when one of his pale hands shot up and grasped around her neck, clenching and squeezing tightly.

"You will not until I say you can." He hissed and Billie let out a muddled moan laced with words as she writhed her hands in frustration, each thrust starving her of the climax which she knew would be powerful. Moving his hand to her back Billie felt herself pulled down once more and she buried her face in the neck of Voldemort, biting her lip so hard it drew blood as his hand made itself way to her backside.

Suddenly, he grabbed her face and shoved a finger into her mouth. She barely had time to understand what was happening before he removed the finger and inserted it into an entirely different hole. Sitting up Billie gasped, completely unprepared for this pleasant intrusion made somewhat uncomfortable due to his nails. Voldemort paid her no mind though, plunging his finger deeper as Billie's anus clenched and contracted around him pleasurably.

"Fuck!" Billie screamed, shaking. Driving herself forward she stopped moving, attempting to give herself a break only to have Voldemort pound into her furiously, putting another hand on her thigh while curling the finger that remained inside of her.

Each thrust was more and more powerful, until finally Billie could withstand no more. Arching her back she finally released herself, overtaken by a release so powerful that each time she came another wave of pleasure hit. Gazing up at the ceiling she screamed, her entire body tensing, as suddenly the entire room whirled around her like a fierce tornado.

"_You're very beautiful. You always have been, my favorite creation."_

_The cold voice reached her ears and she spun around, gazing up at the raven-haired man with pale skin and corded muscles. The veins in his neck stuck out as he smiled, revealing beautiful white teeth and blinking purple eyes. Stepping towards her his black robes brushed against the ground. _

_His prominent jaw angled towards high cheekbones set in beautiful pale skin, white a snow. He was beautiful, the very epitome of loveliness in all its form. His dark eyebrows arched wonderfully over those dark violet eyes and the smile that crossed his face when she turned to him could illuminate the sun._

"_Do you know what you are my darling?"_

"_No My Lord." She heard herself answer. Her voice was foreign and strange to her, a hollow and husky tone that sounded much more seductive than anything she could have ever mustered. Her tone was smooth like honey, suggestive, and powerful._

"_You are my everything. You are pain, you are suffering. You are what brings joy to my very being." He said with a grin, opening his arms and walking over to her._

"_I am not certain I want that burden. Bringing misery to lives."_

"_Burden?!" he laughed, tilting back his head and emitting a roar that seemed to shook the very air around them. "It is no burden, it is a gift! You are my favorite, out of all the others. You do your job with purpose."_

"_Your favorite?" she repeated. _

"_Yes. After all these years, I still want you by my side more than any of the others. Now come, we have work to do."_

Billie's eyes snapped open as the world reeled around her. Finally relaxing she collapsed and rolled off of Lord Voldemort, staring at the ceiling as she tried to replay the scene in confusion. It had happened in an instant although it seemed much longer.

One moment she had been in this very room, and the next off in some strange place with that man. It all seemed too familiar yet clearly she had never been to or seen the place before. And the man? Who was the man in his handsomeness that seemed to know her so well?

And who was she herself? Her voice had been so different it was unrecognizable, but had seen and spoke with him through her own body. It was bizarre, it was confusing, and more than anything it was slightly terrifying.

Beside her Lord Voldemort growled, sitting up and glancing down at her. She could not move she was so overcome with tiredness, and she knew she had wronged by climaxing before he had allowed her to.

Climbing out of the bed he clothed himself, still hard and still wet from being inside of her. It seemed her punishment would be denial of knowing she had brought him to his release, something that she sincerely wanted but could do nothing but lay on her back where she was.

He disappeared with a loud _crack _and the invisible coils around Billie's wrists disappeared. Turning on her side she closed her eyes, still trying to catch her breath as she tried to come to terms with what had just occurred.


	7. His

**A/N: I DO NOT own _Happy Potter_. Been having a lot of fun getting naughty and reworking this story. Any new readers that come across this, I hope you enjoy, I know I am .**

**His**

Billie sunk back in the brass claw-foot bathtub, leaning against the porcelain rim as she soothed her stinging wrists.

The invisible binds that he had used last night left thick purple bruises around her flesh, marking her conveniently as his own, and his only.

Staring up at the ceiling of the bath she silently thought about all that had occurred the past few hours, and what exactly it meant for her.

He had robbed her of her family. Lord Voldemort, a vile defender of evil who had orchestrated the murder of Billie's family and taken her hostage. She should have hated him with every fiber of her being but she could not, because she so longed for his affection.

And in turn, that hatred was turned the only other place it could go: inward. She loathed herself so deeply that each moment she could not think of anything but the punishment she deserved. Not punishment that would bring her pleasure, but punishment which would truly put her in her place, making up for the murder of her loved ones while she tried to appeal to their executioner.

The previous night she had spent in her bed, sobbing heavily as she dug her nails into the flesh of her arms, drawing blood and inciting throbbing pain which did nothing to still her guilt. When she used the bathroom that night, the cloudy mix of semen and urine reminded her of her betrayal once more.

Sleep did not come easy, and when it did, Billie found herself plagued by nightmares where she was confronted by the ghosts of her family as they demanded an answer for her behavior. The angrily berated her for climbing into bed with the one of their murderers, and demanded blood payment I return.

And in her dream, it was the small girls, torn apart and dismembered who stared at Billie silently through hating eyes that caused her to awaken violently. Her stomach churned, and she could do nothing but lay in bed alone.

Alone. He had not even been there to console her. He had used her, completely making her nothing more than a tool for his earthly desires and left without so much as a word or care.

All of it was too much, because despite all the pain he had caused her, Billie could not take her mind off just that: the pain. When she came, her orgasm had been more powerful than any she had ever experienced. Voldemort had managed to take her body to an entirely different realm of pleasure where her senses heightened and opened her both physically and emotionally.

When she cried out, it was as though every nerve in her body writhed with pleasure, euphoria coursing through her core. He had made her his own, taking control of her form in a way Billie yearned for.

And then there was the vision she had foreseen. The strange images that entered her mind when she reached her climax.

There was the man, with the cold voice. He reminded her of her captor in a way, perhaps as he looked once upon a time. Whoever he was, he spoke to her as if they were familiars, yet Billie could not describe it as a dream. She had been awake at the time after all, and she could sense and smell the very air around her, she could taste and touch her surroundings. She knew it was not a dream, but could not find a logical explanation to describe what had happened exactly.

What she did know was that some dormant part of her awoke upon seeing the man who spoke to her as if they were lovers from an ancient past. She now had an unnatural hunger to inflict pain on others, not just herself, and not just the ones who had wronged her. She no longer felt the human grace and kindness that once dominated her soul, but a cruel malice that was nihilistic in nature. She wanted to destroy something beautiful.

All of these thoughts and emotions threatened to rip right out of her, tearing her flesh apart and leaving her an unsightly pile of discarded remains. It seemed too much to feel for one human being, and she wondered how it was possible, and how long it would be before she succumbed.

Glancing down at the scratches on her arms Billie stood up, feeling the water drip down her inner thighs as cold air slapped her skin. Grabbing a towel, she wrapped herself carefully then timidly walked back to the bedroom, clutching her arms over her body as though trying to protect herself from the world.

Opening the door to the bedroom that was now her prison, Billie stopped where she stood as her eyes flew to the robed man standing in the corner of the room, gazing out of the window.

Inhaling sharply Billie said nothing, his very presence both comforting and frightening her. The scratches on her arms began to itch and she suddenly became aware that she was very naked and very vulnerable where she stood.

Silently, Lord Voldemort spun around and glared at her, his eyes seemingly melting her. Trying to be strong, Billie closed the door behind her and stepped into the bedroom, peeling off the towel and sitting on the bed, crossing her legs and drying herself off.

Immediately, she felt in power once again. The guilty thought which belonged in her head sunk away as she toweled herself off, looking up at her new master seductively. Taking the towel, she gently began to dry off her breasts, feeling her nipples harden from both the touch and his gaze.

Suddenly, he appeared before her with a pop, grabbing her arms with an iron-clad fist and ferocious eyes.

"You have defiled yourself." He hissed, and Billie looked down at the scratches on her forearms.

Billie found herself unable to say anything, feeling his anger and fear from it.

Pulling out his wand, Billie watched as he touched the tip to her skin and the scratches began to heal, the skin tightening and leaving behind no mark but a slight redness and itch, barely noticeable.

After doing the other arm he stepped back, and Billie gazed into his horrible eyes, wishing she could tell what he was thinking. In his eyes she saw loathing, anger, and disdain, but she still wished she could detect a gleam of acceptance or desire. She needed his approval, she craved it and wanted to be his.

"I'm sorry. I…I…" she trailed off weakly, her throat becoming dry. Looking up, Billie gazed directly into his eyes before he lifted his hand to struck her surprisingly, so hard that it sent her flying on her back.

"Your body is mine. It belongs to me and will not be defiled by any doing but my own."

The slap left her cheek stinging painfully, her face hot and flooded with blood. Remaining where she was on her back, she stared at the ceiling, heart pounding excitedly in her chest as she wondered what might come to her next.

"Now you must be punished. Come, sit up."

His voice was chilling, but in it Billie could detect a slight waver. She had him, in her power. She now had the ability to turn him to putty with her body. Her cries, could be his undoing and she was confident even as his submissive. She was finding more power within herself as she put herself in a more vulnerable position.

Pulling herself up Billie sat on the edge of the bed, facing Voldemort with her hands properly laced behind her back. Sticking out her chest she looked directly into his eyes, silently telling him everything she wanted.

"Turn around and bend over the bed." He demanded softly and Billie did as told, feeling heat flood her chest, breasts, cheeks, and nether regions.

Resting her face against the comforter, feeling completely exposed in her nakedness.

"You must learn. You are…my mine. Your body belongs to me. And now…" he trailed off.

The air seemed to come alive and Billie listened as a cracking sound emerged into the room, almost like a whip. Closing her eyes, she waited before an unexpected sting landed across her buttocks, causing her to cry out loudly.

"You flesh bruises quite beautifully…" he said behind her, and again, another unexpected lash.

Each stinging blow left behind a sharp pain, inching closer and closer to the space between her legs, and each time Billie arched her back, hoping he would land on her slowly-swelling cunt which continued to get wetter with each lashing.

"Up." He suddenly croaked, and Billie did as told, turning around to find her master disrobed and extremely hard, his face set with extremely human wrinkles as he struggled before her to contain himself.

Billie glanced down at his cock, studying the veins hungrily as she ached with the very thought of having him inside of her once more. As her buttocks continued to sting painfully she rested against the bed, waiting for her orders.

"Against the bedpost. Back straight." He said, and she did as told as he walked over and grabbed both of her arms, holding them above her head.

Without a word or the use of his wand, Billie glanced up as once again, her hands magically found themselves bound. For a moment, Voldemort hesitated before grabbing right leg and lifting it as well, binding it together with her arms.

Billie had danced as a child, and practiced yoga everyday so it was nothing strange to her to go into such a stretch. What was strange, however, was sitting for an extended period of time while her freshly-whipped skin stung irritably against the bed coverings. If his intentions had been to cause discomfort, he had certainly succeeded.

Beyond that, she was exposed in a way she never had been, her leg tied above her head so that she was spread vulnerably, no way to cross her legs or cover herself. For the first time in her life, Billie wished she did not wax so that she had something—even hair—to cover her.

Yet that made her all the more excited. The way he stared at her hungrily as though preparing to devour her. Stepping closer, her master grabbed her leg then guided himself into her entrance slowly, causing Billie to tense with a sharp inhale as pleasure exploded though her.

He took her hesitation as he began pumping in and out of her steadily, never removing his cold eyes from her own. With each small whimper, Billie's moans began to develop until they tore from her lips full-fledged and she tilted her head back, placing her free hand on Voldemort's pale shoulder and gripping tightly.

"Look at me." He whispered, placing both hands on her face and forcing her to look into his own. His eyes were wide, his lips parted as labored breaths escaped, and for the first time his features seemed to soften. Behind them, Billie could swear she saw the ghost of a handsome man, lingering behind the distorted details that caused her both fear and curiosity.

"Please, harder." Billie whispered, and he grinned dangerously.

Without warning he began to thrust in and out of her sharply, causing Billie to tense wildly as she reached her climax within several seconds. As pleasure roiled through her he continued, before grabbing one of her breasts and twisting her nipple painfully.

The sharp pain shot through her chest and she cried out, before a second explosion of pleasure erupted through her body.

Reaching one hand down, her Lord placed it between her legs, rubbing her clit gently then took the other to her temple, looking into her eyes and leaning in so close that their foreheads touch. Clutching her skull he continued to work her with both his hand and his cock, moving in and out while rubbing her and causing her to squirm against the invisible binds.

"Look into my eyes. Do not look away from me." He said softly, and Billie obeyed, keeping her eyes locked on his own as her pleasure peaked once more. After several moments, she came once more, never removing her eyes except to blink, and then…

…_She glanced up at the sky as a bird called, before returning her attentions to the water as she bathed. _

"_Well, I must say it is quite a pleasure to find you here." Came a voice, His voice. _

_Turning around, she smiled, before making her way to the banks of the stream and picking up her dress, slipping it on. Grabbing a glass bottle from a nearby rock she unstopped it and poured the oil into her palms and rubbed it onto her still-wet skin._

"_Would you help me?" she asked. _

"_Yes, but I must ask a similar request of you. I have a job for you…_

Billie sunk back to reality and leaned back, feeling as though everything had been sucked out of her. Falling limp against the post she closed her eyes as the room spun dangerously, and felt her leg and arms release as she came to rest on her back.

Lord Voldemort grabbed her, cradling her in his arms in a way that was almost tender.

"That place you have just seen? What was it?"

"I don't know. I saw it for the first time last night. I've never been before but I see through the eyes of some woman."

"Where are you from?" he suddenly asked, sitting up and leaving Billie on her back.

"The U.S. Look, I've never seen that before." Billie said looking up at the ceiling, also aware that she had just noticed his intrusion of her mind. When it happened she had been too overwhelmed by both her orgasm and her slow descent into the vision which now left her confused. She had not a moment to realize he had somehow probed her mind and accessed her memories.

The sounds of rusting caught her attention and she looked across the room as Voldemort robed himself.

"W-wait, where are you going?" she asked, not wanting to remain alone in her confusion.

"I will return later." He said icily, before departing the room with a swish of his robes, leaving Billie on the bed behind.

* * *

"Severus!" Voldemort exclaimed as he rushed down the staircase, his robes billowing behind him furiously.

The greasy-haired servant Apparated before him before bowing respectively. Voldemort took no time to mull over his admiration and respect for the man, intent only on what he had just been told and what he needed to find.

"My Lord. Do you require something?"

"Rise, Severus. I do. Tell me, what do you know of Muggle religions?"

"I admit I am somewhat ignorant in the matter My Lord. My family saw no need, though I am certain the library of Hogwarts would possess material on the subject."

"I cannot risk you going through Hogwarts under the nose of that sniveling Albus Dumbledore. A moment, Severus." Voldemort said then touched his Dark Mark to summon his second most-faithful servant, although he could not say he held the same amount of respect for her as he did the man before him.

The moment Bellatrix arrived and fell to her feet, even lower than Severus Snape had Voldemort's upper lip curled in disgust. He admired her passion, her unbridled talent, and her willingness to serve, but her constant fawning, inability to think for herself, and consistent need to outdo others irritated him far more than it pleased.

"Get up. I have a task for you and Severus."

Her eyes immediately flew to the dark-haired man and she glanced up at Voldemort, mouth open in protest she dared not voice. Another reason he disliked her so much. Every complaint she raised against Severus spoke for her pettiness as she raised questions against his loyalty, insinuating that he himself had made a mistake, and The Dark Lord did not make mistakes.

"My Lord? Are you sure you…trust, Snape with a matter of importance?"

"Just as sure as your speaking out of turn may earn you a curse Bellatrix. I need you two to infiltrate the Ministry of Magic, Muggle relations. I need any information you can acquire on the Muggle's ancient Greek mythology."

"My Lord? What business would you have with silly Muggle superstition?"

"DO NOT QUESTION ME AGAIN!" He suddenly roared violently, on grasping his wand tightly in his spider-like hands as his anger raged within him. Bellatrix shrunk back in fear, only infuriating him further. Billie, a simply Muggle girl took his whips without so much as a tear, pushing him further and here Bellatrix shied away at the very thought of pain. Who was the weak one?

"Bring me what you find." He commanded, before spinning around before he completely lost his temper and decimated Bellatrix right where she stood.

At the orphanage Mrs. Cole never allowed such books in the library, stating that they were "against God." It was when young Tom Riddle learned his true nature that he gave up any believe in a higher power. _He_, was a higher power. The Muggle needed an explanation for the inexplicable, but wizards were much wiser and knew much better.

Giving up hope on Muggle religion meant that it never strayed into his thought. In fact, this was the first time he had thought about the topic in quite some time, but there was something vaguely strange about what he had seen in Billie's mind, prompting his search.

There was a boy at Wool's that liked to draw. He would copy pictures from a large encyclopedia, which Tom Riddle had come across after the boy "mysteriously" ended up in the hospital wing. Leafing through it, he remembered seeing a scene similar to the one he had come across in Billie's head, but discarded the book as nothing important.

He simply wanted to feel what she was thinking when she climaxed, he wanted to see her thoughts. He had not expected to encounter what he had, and doing so lead him to the thought that he had come across earlier.

She was not an ordinary Muggle. There was something about the girl that was strange, supernatural as the Muggles would say. But she was definitely not ordinary.

A sharp hiss drew him from his thoughts and he looked down to find Nagini, flicking her tongue as him expectedly as she slithered across the carpeted floor.

"Hello my darling." He said lovingly and picking her up, letting her wrap herself around his arms.

"_I can smell her on you." _Nagini hissed.

"_Quite an intoxicating scent. I think I will have you go pay a visit to her in fact. Spend some time, and tell me of what you find."_

"_What do I look for? Does this mean I can finish you?"_

"_You most certainly cannot. You must not harm her. I just wish for you to observe her, and tell me what you find." _

"_Fine." _she snapped then slithered off angrily, causing Voldemort to grin. Her eagerness to kill made him love her all the more.

* * *

"So, where are we going?" Billie asked, stepping behind Voldemort rightfully so, making sure to remain at his side but keep behind him so that the she made it clear he was her leader, and she was to follow behind in her footsteps.

So far he had made no reference to their sexual encounters, although Billie immediately noticed the change in his treatment towards her. He was kinder, though nowhere near romantic. He spoke to her with a soft voice unless she upset him significant, which had yet to happen. So far she only seemed to irritate him by giving a snide response when began to question her about her vision the second time, and after seeing the shadow pass over his face she dropped the subject and apologized profusely.

It was quite evident that he was malevolent, with a poorly-contained temper and erratic emotions prone to change at any moment. So, she tip-toed carefully to ensure she was caught in his good books when she could, reserving serious punishment for sexual satisfaction, and so far over the course of the day it seemed to be working.

"I must pay someone a visit. There is something I need of you. A boy, he is to do something for me as punishment for his father's incompetence. You are close in age, I will promise you to him as one of his rewards, should he succeed in his first task."

Billie said nothing, her face heating. So, he really cared nothing for her. She was simply a toy that he could pass along as he wished.

"You want me to sleep with him?" she barked, unable to stop herself.

"Yes, that is what I want." He said, stopping and turning around to face her darkly as they walked up the drive to a magnificent manor, larger than the one they presently stayed at.

"I'm not a whore. I'm not going to just let you pass me around like a rag doll." Billie snapped angrily, forgetting both who she was dealing with as well as her situation.

In an instant his hand snapped out and he back-handed her, so hard the she stumbled back. Grabbing her face he held her tightly, clutching her jaw in his hand and squeezing violently so that his fingers seemed seconds away from crushing her jaw.

"Do not forget your place. You will do _what _I tell you _when _I tell you, or your life is forfeit. Keep your mouth shut unless I allow it, your cunt is mine to do with what I wish, don't forget."

His words were violent, his voice filled with a sadistic glee that excited Billie, despite his horrifying words. He had not only threatened her life, but stated that he fully owned her body, and while she liked the idea in concept, the thought of someone actually owning her was frightening.

She swallowed, following him silently after her reprimand. Now it made sense, why he forced her to wear in makeup and a short black dress that she knew didn't suit his style. As he stopped, Billie did so in a hurry so that she did not run into him and anger him further.

Turning around, he gathered one of her hands and held it between his own.

"Come my pet, and put on your best smile. We have work to do." Voldemort said sweetly then kissed Billie's hand and let it drop to her side. Turning to her his offered his arm affectionately and she took it in confusion, marveling once more at his sudden change in mood.

Clutching his arm tightly she listened to her heels echo against the ground and turned her head sharply as a white figure emerged from the darkness, darting across the drive and across to the grass. As she looked again, it raised its feathers in a show of brilliance revealing itself as some sort of albino peacock.

As they made their way up the front steps Billie glanced up at his pale face once more, the very epitome of evil. His threat and declaration continued to tumble through her mind, echoing repeatedly even as the front door of the house opened and a timid blonde woman who Billie recognized peered out before her already-pale face lost more color.

"My Lord. I-I'm sorry I was not expecting your visit."

"Good evening Narcissa. It is not your presence I require, it is Draco's."

For a moment, Billie wondered if the woman might faint.

"D-Draco? W-what do you need with Draco?"

"It is time for your son to prove himself. Step aside Narcissa." Voldemort said, then pulled out his wand. In an instant, Narcissa flew back several feet, not violently enough to throw her to the ground but enough to be menacing.

"Please My Lord I mean you no disrespect but Draco is a child."

"Yes Narcissa, he is. Older than I was myself when I set the basilisk on Hogwarts and initiated my rise to power. Entertain my Billie here, while I speak with Draco. I will call for you." He whispered the last sentence in Billie's ear then headed off into the house, leaving Billie and Narcissa to face one another.

"Please, what does he want with me son?! TELL ME!" She shrieked, lunging at Billie and grabbing her by her shoulders desperately.

"I don't know! Get off!" Billie shrugged out of her touch. While she remembered Narcissa as the only one who had been nice to her the first night, she knew that if she was deserving of the punishment Voldemort was going to give to her she must have done something wrong.

"Is he going to hurt him?!" Narcissa cried, her beautiful face blotchy and red and Billie felt a pang of remorse. She could feel the mother's pain, and wished there was something more she could say, even if it was bad information.

"I'm sorry I don't know anything. He just told me to come he hasn't said anything to me about it. I don't even know who your son is I know nothing. I-"

"-Billie. Pet, please…come…" came a voice and Billie turned around, where Lord Voldemort waited at the entrance of two doors, which Billie could see lead to a dining room.

Billie glanced at Narcissa for a moment, looking into her watery eyes then turned and walked towards her master.


	8. History

**A/N: I DO NOT own any part of _Harry Potter._**

**History**

"Draco, I'd like you to meet my pet, Billie. Come Billie, stand beside me."

Billie stood beside her master nervously, glancing at the pale-faced teenage boy before her, his expression full of both fear and panic. Exactly what Billie had come to expect of anyone who was forced to face Lord Voldemort.

"She is quite lovely, don't you think. Let me show you. Spin around for me my pet." He commanded, placing his hands on Billie's waist firmly and spinning her around. Feeling her cheeks burn she locked eyes with the Malfoy boy for a moment as she faced him once more, humiliated, angered, and excited all at once that her master would offer her up as a reward; he would place her on the market as if she were a common whore.

"Yes, My Lord." The boy said, and Billie could not help but pity him. His pointed face was exaggerated by hollow sallow cheeks, clearly of a boy who had been under immense stress as of late. He was handsome no doubt, but his looks had been overshadowed by the evident worry that decorated his regal features.

"Let me show you something Draco." He said coolly, standing up and jerking Billie around roughly. Facing the other direction, her face heated as she felt his long fingers on the zipper of her dress, pulling it down until her back was exposed. Crossing her arms self-consciously Billie closed her eyes, forever amazed at how cruel he could be.

"Move." He grunted, prying her arms apart then grabbing the straps of her dress and pulling them down so that the material fell to the floor, pooling around Billie's ankles. She was left in nothing but a skimpy pair of black bra and underwear, both sheer, and both revealing.

As his fingers made their way under the clasp of her bra Billie spun around to face him, daring to challenge her master.

"Please, stop." She breathed, and he put a hand on her chin, then turned her head roughly, reminding her of his power and unhooked her bra.

"Now Draco, you will see here. Billie's back. Her skin, smooth like butter. Silky, soft. And she bruises quite marvelously. Not to mention she has quite the affinity for pain, don't you darling?"

After a long moment Billie nodded, glad the Malfoy boy couldn't see the color of her cheeks.

"Give her a try." He urged, a sickening grin on his voice and Billie could tell from the pregnant pause that Draco was reluctant to do such a thing. She silently thanked his confused morality, but knew Lord Voldemort was using her as another tactic to prove his power. She was just his pawn. Sexually, tactically, and manipulatively. A slave in every way.

He muttered the curse, and she felt a light sting on her back, enough to illicit a wince but nothing like the forceful blows she was used to.

"No, not like that Draco. As this." Lord Voldemort breathed deeply and Billie inhaled, listening to the air swish with magic before the magnificent blow sent her staggering forward, pain exploding across her entire back. Gripping her bra tightly to keep from exposing herself she steadied, straightening up after a minute as her flesh stung like hundreds of stings from angry bees.

"See? Look at the way he flesh bruises. That beautiful welt. And…" he trailed off, walking across the room and grabbing Billie's body. Pressing himself against her, Billie felt his weight against her back and stiffened, her body heating with excitement. The awareness of the extra body in the room filled her with a voyeuristic quality, sheathing all embarrassment as her other side once again emerged. It was the side who belonged to the dark woman in her visions, the powerful queen who spoke with her voice.

She was aroused, excited, and insatiable as Lord Voldemort spoke, his thin lips brushing her ear. As he paraded her around, goading the young Draco Malfoy even in all the boy's fear. Before Billie knew it, she had dropped her hands from her breasts, allowing her bra to fall forward slightly and spun around, placing her hands on her master's shoulders.

"She becomes aroused at the slightest hint of pain. Quite wonderful." He said with a sickening grin, and Billie leaned forward so that her lips brushed his chin.

"I'll do anything you say." She whispered, and he glanced down at her without a word, cold eyes shimmering furiously in a way that told her what to expect when they returned to her bedroom.

"Now, Draco, I have several tasks you will complete for me. Tasks that can only be done by a person with insight to Hogwarts. Since your father's pathetic failure it appears you will be stepping into my good graces to prove yourself worthy to the Dark Lord." Lord Voldemort stated, letting go of Billie and she frowned slightly, clasping her bra then pulling her dress up once more.

"W-what kind of tasks?" Malfoy stuttered, skin pale as a sheet and Billie once again felt for him.

"Your first will be dealing with two friends of yours. Sirs Crabbe and Goyle. And as a reward, I'll give you my pet here, to prove your worth as a man as your father never could. Leave us." He instructed Billie as she gestured to Malfoy and she hesitated, before departing the room like a kid cast away from the adult's table.

She had been so excited, so willing to let him take her then and there. She wanted him to dominate her body in front of the Malfoy boy, making an example of her while pushing her to her limits all at once.

Waiting in the hall outside the door, she stood for what seemed an eternity, not wanting to venture down the hall and come across the hysteric Mrs. Malfoy again. One look into the woman's eyes would send her reeling into her usual self, and for once, Billie didn't want that. She didn't want to feel pity or grief for a woman who obviously deserved it. She did not want to feel the urge to beg Voldemort to pardon the family, who were apparently being punished for the father.

After another bout of waiting, the doors swung open and Billie found herself facing a triumphant looking Lord Voldemort. As the two wooden doors closed she caught a glimpse of the boy, standing with his head down as he brought his hands to his face in evident tears. Looking away so as not to attract the attention of her master to his plight Billie stood on her toes, hands clasped in front of her body like a child.

"Now, for me to deal with you my dear." He growled, gripping her by the crook of her elbow and yanking her towards the front of the house, leaving Billie with a grin on her face that came with knowing she had been found utterly undesirable.

DWTD

Voldemort attempted to pace himself, grunting as he felt Billie's walls contract around him for the second time. Through the gag around her mouth she screamed, arching her back and bucking wildly as she struggled against her binds.

As he moved on top of her, he raised a hand and let a finger run down the side of her face, observing her beauty as she lay on her back, eyes closed and mouth open in pleasure. Thrusting sharply, Voldemort continued to plow into her with all he could, trying to hold himself back and knowing he wouldn't last much longer. It was impossible, the way her throaty cries pierced his ears, or the way she throbbed, warm and wet as he slid in and out of her.

Reaching down, he brought his mouth to one of her large breasts and bit down on one of her hardened nipples roughly, feeling the soft skin around his face. How she maintained such an amazing figure he would never understand. All he knew, was he could spend all of his life sinking his teeth into her breasts and bottom happily.

The scream that tore through her lips filed him with newfound fervor, as Billie bucked once more, this time offering herself to him. Voldemort found the way she pushed arched her back, silently begging for him to do whatever he pleased perhaps more arousing than anything her. The way she reacted to his ministrations, whether he was leaving marks with his lips, or tearing into her flesh with his wand.

A muffled sentence caught his attention, and he reached up, removing the strip of cloth that once belonged to her dress from between her lips, a makeshift gag which made her all the more submissive to him, though he could not deny he liked to hear her scream aloud.

"Please sir may I come again?" she breathed as he removed the rag and Voldemort placed a hand firmly over her mouth, raising himself up as he continued to bury his stiffened cock within her wet folds.

"You will come when I allow you to." He growled in response, feeling the need to torture her. So far he had spent his time trying to get her off, now it was his turn to have a little fun. And indeed, his words caused her to scream only louder, her body shaking with effort as she attempted to control herself.

Sweat beaded on her chest, slickening her red flesh which was marked with small cuts. Reaching forth once more, Voldemort placed his hands on either side of her face and began to knead it firmly, watching her grimace in dull pain.

"Please sir, I have to come!" she screamed out, emitting a choked noise and Voldemort looked down, watching himself slide in and out of her then met her eyes, diving forth and biting the red skin of her neck where he had previously before.

Indeed, he could feel a slight movement in her lower belly, as well as a series of throbs inside of her that told him she was closer to her climax than ever, but he wanted to torture her. He wanted to truly make her suffer, sadistically. No matter what a man did, there was nothing more cruel than denying a woman pleasure, particularly when she was so close.

"If you come I will hurt you and I promise it will not cause you pleasure." He whispered, promising to make good on his threat.

Letting out a frustrated scream Billie turned her head, tears sliding from her eyes and Voldemort felt himself twitch, harder than ever. It hurt, the way the blood pooled inside his cock, hurt so that he needed to release himself within her, but not before she did.

"Come for me pet." He whispered, and she allowed herself, body tensing around him. Within seconds Voldemort joined her, letting out a pained grunt as her cunt clenched him. As he felt himself spurt within her, Voldemort collapsed in a very human-like manner, trying to catch his breath as he rested his head between Billie's breasts.

As her chest rose and fell he listened her heartbeat, which pumped at erratic measure that could not be healthy. When he thought about it, he wondered if it had anything to do with her nature as whatever creature she was.

"Will you untie me please?" she said after a few moment, and he sat up, grabbing his wand as he silently released her arms and legs fell onto the bed once more, unsure if he could take one step if he climbed out of the bed.

Feeling soft hands on his back, Voldemort allowed Billie to caress him, unable to deny her tenderness. No matter how much he prided himself on fury and anger, he had to admit it was nice to find himself in the arms of a woman. No matter how much he struck, bit, or tortured her, here she was stroking him lovingly, in a way he had never been touched before.

"Voldemort, will you tell me a story?" she breathed after several moments and Voldemort stiffened, frowning angrily at the way his name sounded on her lips. No matter who she was, she was not fit to let the name fall from her mouth.

"Call me…Marvolo." He said after a moment's pause, wondering whether to punish her for her infraction. In truth, if he did it would undoubtedly lead to her arousal, which would in turn lead to more sex, and Voldemort was not quite ready for another round of that.

He couldn't say what made him offer the name. Naturally, it had never been used by anyone in such a context. As much as he loved hearing her call him her master, at a time like this, in complete privacy with only the two of them, he would allow himself to "loosen" in a sense. It was only his closest followers who could call him Lord Voldemort, and Billie would be the only one permitted to call him by the name he had given her.

When she said it, she would not be speaking of the disturbed and pathetic shell of Marvolo Gaunt, but to a man who had created himself into the most powerful being in the universe.

"I'm sorry. Will you tell me a story?"

"About what?" he asked curiously, remaining where he lay on her chest.

"About killing."

Pausing for a moment, Voldemort felt himself frozen as his mind exploded in thought. He was surprised, pleased, and irritated all at once. Her penchant for violence and sadism continued to interest him at every turn, prompting him to keep her around, if just a bit longer. No other woman would dare ask such a question, for they would fear the tales me might tale, and it pleased him that she was so strong. He could not bury his irritation though, for who was she that she dare meddle in affairs that were not her own?

Settling his anger, Voldemort sat up, shifting across the bed and laying on his back. Grabbing Billie, he pulled her to him on his side, wrapping one arm around her neck and another around her waist so that he spooned her aggressively. With each inhale, he buried his face in her luscious hair fervently enjoying her scent.

"Well. There once was a man, named Tom Riddle…"

* * *

Billie strode down the halls of the manor quietly, glancing at paintings and objects on the walls. Most of the figures glared darkly, family members of those that had lived before. Those who had been killed, and Billie found out.

When he began to tell her the story of his murderous glee, it didn't take long for Billie to realize that the man who Marvolo had killed was his own father. Without revealing it himself, he told her the tale of a desperate woman clinging onto hope that a man would have her. A man who was revered by those in his own community, but seen as noting in the eyes of wizards.

It was strange to Billie, how blood-status played out. It was like race in her own world it seemed. Still, people weren't good enough based on something or another. In the Muggle world it was their skin color. In this, the magical roots in the family.

Had she been the old Billie, the simple girl from America intent on living a normal everyday life, Billie would have been horrified by his tale. She would have done everything she could to escape, but the old Billie was no longer present. She had been taken over by a ferocious new Billie, who became aroused at such tales. She longed to please Marvolo, despite all he had done to her, and now, she felt no guilt about it. She was hardened, hollow, and full of a disdain for humanity in general.

She felt as though she had seen it all. She felt years and years old, as though she spent her time in the company of death. She felt like an entirely different person.

Coming down the steps to the entrance, Billie paused at the top of the staircase, clad in an elegant black dress with a square-neckline which showed a hint of cleavage, as well as the small cuts that decorated the skin of her chest.

After becoming Marvolo's slave once more, she begged him not to remove her wounds, and after several pleas he finally agreed to allow her to sport her wounds like as badge of honor. She liked being able to gaze at the markings in the mirror and remember what they had meant. She liked to see the cuts on her chest, the bruises on her hands and ankles, the lash marks on her back. Each time, she could feel him pumping inside of her as he growled angrily.

Voices caught Billie's attention, and she peered as the rat-looking and shabby servant named Wormtail stood at the door with none other than Draco Malfoy and his mother.

The three spoke in hushed tones, and Wormtail said something before hobbling off with Mrs. Malfoy behind him, leaving the young Draco who all but cowered where he stood, looking around nervously as though he expected someone to come at him any second.

Walking down the steps slowly Billie stopped at the base, catching his eye as she approached him.

"Hello Draco. Long time no see." She smirked and he looked around once more, before stiffening, his face becoming hard, the mask of a boy trying to pretend he was a man.

"Who are you?" he snapped furiously, and Billie raised her eyebrows in surprise at just how flippant the boy had suddenly become.

"What, you don't remember me?" Billie asked, feeling inherently bold. She was mildly intrigued by his attitude, a nice change from the sniveling wreck she came across at every turn.

"Yeah. You're the Dark Lord's whore." He seethed, full of a fury that surprised Billie.

"Quite an attitude you have I see. However you might want to keep in mind it is not me that put you in your preset situation." Billie replied nastily, taking satisfaction as the boy grimaced slightly, his lip twitching with anger as his cheeks burned with shame.

"Besides, I mean you no harm. Just stopping by to say hello." Billie shrugged, leaning over against the bannister and crossing her arms over her chest. As she did so, she noticed his eyes move to the skin which had been marked by her master.

His eyes widened, and Billie glanced down then grabbed the bottom of her dress, hiking it up to reveal her bruised legs and ankles, covered with thick purple rings from his binds and the occasional lash mark.

"My back is the worst of it. He usually likes to heal them, but I convinced him to keep them." She shrugged, dropping her skirt as Malfoy stared open-mouthed.

"H-he does that to you?" he breathed fearfully, and Billie stuck her chest out proudly.

"He does a lot of things to me. Because he knows I can take them. I suppose that's why he keeps me around."

"He's going to kill you. Once he gets bored. You know he's going to kill you."

"Yes…I know."

* * *

Voldemort watched as Billie's lips pressed firmly against her goblet. She tilted the cup back slightly, taking a sip of her wine with eyes that never left his own, as though she knew she looked artfully seductive. She was like a drawing by some realist painter, the dim lighting casting shadows on her face and body as she drank quietly.

"May I ask you something?" she finally said, wiping her lips with a napkin delicately before placing it on her empty plate. Taking another sip of wine, Voldemort offered his hands, silently urging her to continue and she smiled for a moment with red-stained lips that looked utterly delectable.

She looked like some kind of vampiress from where she sat, poised in elegant with her brilliant skin. Her luxurious raven hair was piled atop her head, her lips decorated with dark red rouge that Voldemort longed to smear across her face as he climbed atop her once more.

"Are you going to kill me?" she breathed calmly, an inkling of fear behind her eyes. Nevertheless, Voldemort had sensed a change in her, though she had only been in his presence a few days. She had transformed from the fearful teenage girl into a woman who seemed beyond her age in years, a woman who commanded the attention of those before her.

"Yes." He answered truthfully, watching her face as he answered. Instead of pleading for her life like he half expected though, she simply nodded, looking away as her cheeks reddened slightly then swallowed, taking another sip of wine. Shifting her gaze downward, Voldemort could tell she was close to tears. Perhaps the realization that she would in fact die at some point in her near future.

He would be sad to see her go, but he would inevitably grow tired of her. For the moment, he was intrigued. Not only did he have a woman to pleasure him every way he wished, but Billie remained a mystery. He was still unable to discover the true nature of her existence. He had no doubt at all now that she was no Muggle or Half-Blood. In fact, she was not human at all. She bore no trademarks of the Veela, but her prowess was far too powerful to be natural.

"For now…you are mine." He finally replied, standing up and crossing the room. With each step, Voldemort felt himself drawn to her, his eyes zooming in on her long neck which seemed to gleam in the dim lighting. From across the table, he could think of nothing but wrapping a hand around her neck and squeezing so that she let choked cries spew from her lips.

Stepping behind her, he placed both hands around her neck lightly, peering down at the swell of her breasts which was simply delicious. Those breasts, soft and warm, decorated with pink nipples that hardened to perfection.

Moving his hands down slowly, he massaged the peaks of her breasts then brought his white hands around her neck, watching as she tilted her head back, mouth opening pleasurably. As Voldemort watched she closed her eyes, thick lashes fanning out and bit her full bottom red lip as he squeezed her neck ever so lightly, but still with firm hands.

Again, his cold heart swelled with desire as he gazed upon her long neck and pleasure-filled face. Her mouth begged to be taken, ruby lips making his manhood spike with arousal. Deep down he loathed her as he loathed everyone, but his desire was paramount. No matter what he said or did, she wanted him. She was slowly becoming fiercely loyal, her body craving his own.

Placing a long finger on her bottom lip, Voldemort felt the smooth skin and she let her throat flutter, eyelids snapping open. With each of their sexual encounters, his attraction grew, and he knew he would continue to keep her longer than he had anticipated.

"Would you like my mouth, Master?" she exhaled and Voldemort clutched her neck tightly with his free hand, blood rushing to his loins. Why was she so damn irresistible?

The way she became aroused for him was such a dream. Quickly, Voldemort reached his hands beneath Billie's dress, inching under her brassier and feeling her breasts. Sure enough, she let out and audible sigh and his fingers brushed her hard nipples before he retracted them. Now all he could think of was what was happening between her legs.

He wanted to watch her, see her cunt swell and smell her earthy scent. He wanted to gaze between her legs and feel the heat that came off of her.

Grabbing her chair, Voldemort yanked it out sharply, testing his own strength and amusing himself as Billie let out a yelp of surprise. Reaching out, she grabbed the table and Voldemort fell to his knees, the first time he would ever stand below a person in his life.

"W-what are you doing?!" she suddenly cried out as he lifted her legs and pushed back her gown.

"What I please." Voldemort snarled, pulling out his wand and casting a quick spell that bound her arms to the chair's arms with thick cords. Looking down, she stared at him in confusion that sat back, seeming to give herself over to him just as she always did. Reaching for her panties, he yanked them off, tossing them carefully then stared between her legs.

Her dress was so long and heavy that it bunched around her waist, not exactly giving him the view he had wanted but nevertheless, Voldemort found himself in a position he could not refuse. While he was on his knees before her, keeping her restrained in the chair still left him in charge. She would struggle, writhing to move her hands and he would not let her.

Grabbing her legs, he placed him over his shoulders, flicking out his tongue at the small pearl nestled above her apex. And just as expected, Billie responded with a delighted keen, tilting her head back and lifting her legs slightly.

* * *

_She giggled as she ran through the magnificent poppy field, feeling the leaves brush her feet as she bounced about. All around her, the mournful wails that sang out at all times echoed in her ears as a gently breeze blew a strand of straight black hair from her face. _

"_Noooooooooooo." A voice cried out in such anguish it would have physically sickened a mortal man. Stopping, she began to skip towards the voice, black dress blowing against her legs as she found a decaying body, writhing painfully on the ground. _

_The deathly poppies surrounded the withering frame and she bent down, tilting her head as she stared at the form that was once a man, sent to suffer. The poppy fields of death often claimed those who tried to wander off in a foolish attempt to make it to the above world. It was a hopeless act. The only way up was through Him, and He certainly would not allow such a thing without a purpose. _

_Tilting her head slightly, she began to pick the poppies around the body, ignoring its tortured cries. Gathering them in her dress, she looked up at the dark sky then began to walk, catching sight of the fountain that stood in the center of the field. _

_Running over, she dumped the poppies into the water then let a hand dip into the cold water, glancing down at herself. Leaning over, she gazed at her reflection, violet eyes looking back at her. _

"_You in the poppy fields again. I thought I might find you here."_

_Smiling, she straightened to spun around to face Him, then pulled a small silver dagger from her dress. _

"_It is a special occasion." She shrugged, then brought the dagger to her wrist and dragged it across her skin. Black blood seeped from the wound and she held it carefully over the fountain as it dripped down into the cool water, the liquid pooling instantly. _

_Reaching down, she began to swirl the water around with her hand then turned and smiled. _

"_A plague. From my own black blood and the poppy sickness. It will claim more souls than the above world has ever known. Rich, poor, old, young. And below we will celebrate." She smiled, walking to the handsome and cold man who stood across from her. _

"_You always were ambitious. Hopefully this will shed their faith in their foolish Christian God and remember us of old. Come, there is more to be done. We must alert the others."_

Billie sat up with a gasp, watching as the image of her own face, smiling coyly from behind those violet eyes disappeared.

Touching her face she panted in disbelief, feeling herself shake anxiously with the nightmare that was all too real. Beside her, Marvolo stirred for Billie knew he slept infrequently. Hoping she did not wake him she laid back down, staring at the darkened ceiling.

Again, it had been too real. It was more than some vision, it was a reality. She could smell and touch everything, hear the painful cries that had surrounded her. And she had seen her own face in the fountain.

It was too real to be a dream, and it frightened her beyond belief. Both old and new Billie sank back into the bed, trembling violently. Doing the only thing she could, she grabbed Marvolo's pale arm and slipped it around her body. He shifted, still not awakening and she sank into him, knowing that when he awoke she would not have the luxury of seeking physical comfort.

She was losing her mind, completely and wholly, as though something was ripping her apart, some dormant monster trying to claw its way out. A strange transformation was happening and Billie feared for her life more than ever. Not from Marvolo, not from the others. She feared for her life for whatever lay inside of her.


	9. Darkness

**A/N: I DO NOT own **_**Harry Potter.**_

**Darkness**

Billie sat cross-legged on the couch in the sitting room, staring at the dim fireplace as the cold surrounded her. Clad in a pair of rolled-up pants and a tucked-in yellow blouse she pursed her red-covered lips, feeling like one of the long gone 1940s starlets on their days off.

Wiggling her bare toes, she silently concentrated on the pile of ash within the fireplace as she steeled her mind nervously, thinking only of her destination. As she imagined the hazy world that continued to plague her she closed her eyes, delving deeper and deeper into her subconscious. She reached further and deeper, trying to find the voices and sounds that she had heard when she went there.

The air grew colder, a chill filling her heart and she inhaled deeply, feeling as though her body suddenly changed. While the icy cold still enveloped her, she suddenly felt impervious to its affects. It was as though her body was used to it. Opening her eyes, she suddenly looked around and found herself looking not at the fireplace and dim lightening of the mansion, but at an open courtyard, crumbling beneath dark and agony-ridden skies.

Glancing around quickly she raised her hands, glancing down at her skin that was no longer a ghostly pale like she was used to, but a deep bronze. Reaching down, she grasped at her clothing and found herself wearing a toga-like garment as she looked up to the sky which swirled ominously and unrealistically.

"_Billie…..Billie….." _a voice echoed from above and she looked around as she was suddenly pulled from the courtyard and back to the mansion. Opening her eyes she gasped as her voice continued once more and she found her master standing at the door staring at her. Stepping forward with his wand in hand he glanced down at her and let a hand fall under her chin, tilting her head upward with an emotionless face.

"What were you doing?" he asked in a sharp voice, eyes piercing her own and Billie found herself unable to look away. He attempted to intrude into her mind and she relaxed to allow him to do so as he probed her mind obviously.

Pulling away Billie slumped into his arms and he stood her up haphazardly, demon eyes piercing directly into hers.

"I think I might be able to go there without…well whenever I go is when I'm about to c-climax. But just now I concentrated and I think I went there. Or at least I saw it. There was a courtyard and I could hear those voices again. Screaming. Screaming like people-"

"-In incredible pain. Yes, I saw. I will discover it for you, do not question me. For now, there is something I must do and I will need you. Remember the boy Draco I introduced you to?"

"Yes." Billie replied, feeling her shoulders deflate as she found herself wondering if this would be the time he carelessly handed her over to the boy who seemed to hold nothing but equal contempt for her.

"The time has come to see how he is faring in his task. He will surely fail, but he needs a reminder that Lord Voldemort is always there. He will convene with his friends today on a trip to London, and you will join him. Run into him if it were as though a mere accident. He is bound to understand your presence is not merely coincidence, and tell me of what you can glean. And when you get return…I'll have a reward for you."

"I'll be most gracious Master." Billie said calmly and coolly, glancing straight ahead. After a long moment she dared herself to look into the terrible eyes of her captor and the moment she did he grabbed her, pulling her close forcefully and putting a hand around her neck.

"My perfect pet." He whispered, then leaned in and kissed the corner of her mouth so that Billie turned her head slightly, attempting to catch his lips. Backing away, he pointed Billie towards the fireplace, now aglow with green flames and she stepped towards the magical inferno slowly, watching the flames leap with curiosity.

"Here." He spoke, then grasped a small container sitting on the fireplace mantle and grabbing a pinch of dust. Opening Billie's palm he let the tiny grains spill into her hand then gently pushed her towards the fire which radiated no heat like a normal one, though the thought of stepping into fire still made her weary.

"Step inside, then say Knockturn Alley. You will arrive at a shop where the boy will be there. Make your presence noted, but not obvious. I want him to know I have agents who will always find him. Then you will return to me slave. Do you understand?"

"Yes Master." Billie nodded, then stepped towards the fire on shaky legs. Holding the powder in her hand, she took a deep breath and plunged into the flames which licked her skin with none of the fanatical fury she had feared. Instead they tickled, a cool whisper against her flesh as she took the ashy substance and tossed it, calling out just as he had told her.

And suddenly, the world turned around her and she fell forward, coming into contact with a cool surface as she opened her eyes and sat up, glancing around to find herself in a horrifically dark shop full of disfigured and frightening items as far as the eye could see. Standing up, she brushed herself off just as the sound of voices came and began to walk forward in her heels towards them, stopping shy of a shelf which hid her presence.

Glancing down at one of her shoes, she peered around the corner and watched as several wizards looking worse for the wear spoke in a corner over an object. Quietly, Billie attempted to make her way past them without causing attention to herself and just about succeeded before a man stopped her at the door, stepping in front of the exit as she inhaled, still attempting to take in the sights around her while maintaining her task.

She found herself frozen as she glanced at a drawing of a necklace which seemed to sparkle. Next to an empty display case, and stepped closer as she squinted at the illustration which featured a shimmering and swirling drawing of the very necklace she had been given her first night at the mansion.

Bending down, she read the elegant script and paused as her eyes floated over the word _"deadly"_. The brief history of the tattered parchment seemed to detail the account of a necklace which had claimed the lives of wizards and Muggles, and if Billie was correct, she had sported the very same trinket and lived to tell the tale.

It looked exactly the same, and the empty display case only furthered her suspicion. Uneasily she stood, her mind filled with the images she had seen in what she could only identify in out-of-body experiences for they seemed too real to be visions. No longer could she qualify anything as impossible. After all, she was standing in some sort of dark magical shop surrounded by witches and wizards who dispelled the notion of possibility itself.

A soft and commanding voice caught her attention rung in her mind as familiar. Turning her head slightly, she found herself watching the young blonde boy she knew to be her target speaking with who could only be the shop owner. The man placed a hand on his shoulder and ushered him to the back along with his mother.

Taking one last glance at the necklace, Billie returned her attention to the task at hand and followed the three across the dark shop, walking as quietly as her heels would allow. The young Malfoy seemed too preoccupied in other matters to notice the outlandish shoes Billie's "Muggle" shoes made, even as she stepped closer and pretended to look down at several dancing skeleton figurines which claimed to put viewers into a deadly sleep.

Lowering his voice to a whisper he caught her attention and Billie turned around, straining to hear what Draco was saying before he glanced at her, straightening immediately as his face colored. The elderly man who spoke to him looked as well, narrowing his eyes with the look of a man who did not mean to see his business interrupted.

"W-what are you doing here? You're following me aren't you?" he spat, visibly shaken and Billie shrugged carelessly, feeling herself taken over by a sadistic mistress who showed not a hint of empathy. It delighted her to see him cower, looking over his shoulder as though expecting her Marvolo to swoop down at any moment and descend upon him.

"Lovely to see you too Draco. I was just asked by a mutual friend of ours to keep an eye out for you. Perhaps assure you don't stray too far from the task at hand." Billie smiled, taking wind with the idea and couldn't help but chuckle as he blanched, the store owner's eyes widening in bewilderment at the evident fact that Billie was in league with the Dark Lord Voldemort. She knew others were afraid to speak his name, after all from her he outright forbade it and demanded she call him Marvolo.

"What do you want with us?" his mother asked, and Billie stopped to stare at the beautiful woman before sighing.

"You know what he wants. Don't you worry your pretty face. So long as you do as you're told you and Draco have nothing to worry about. I can assure you that myself. But now, I must cut this visit short. Good day to you both." Billie bowed her head elegantly then made her way out of the shop, unable to remove the sly smile which spread across her ruby lips as she felt the stunned eyes of the Malfoys behind her.

* * *

Voldemort watched as Billie kneeled before him, her arms behind her back as she stuck her chest out and glanced at him expectantly through those large eyes. Pushing out her breasts she teased him, gag knotted tightly around the back of her head so that it pried apart those beautiful plump lips that made him throb just looking at them. The very thought of having them on his erection stirred blood within his loins and he stepped around her, glancing at her bare feet.

Here she was, completely naked before him and at his command. Arms bound behind her back and let her soft bottom rest against the heels of her feet and Voldemort absent-mindedly licked his lips as he stared at her hardened nipples then glanced down to her thighs, wanting to slide his hand between her legs and feel her growing wetness.

"You've done well and will be rewarded as promised. Tell me my pet, what would you like?"

Raising her head Billie opened her mouth and Voldemort could see her eyes widen, mind flooding with desirable possibilities. She was so willing and ready for him, and that was one of the most beautiful things about her. She _wanted _him, but not so in desperation. She remained strong even when all she wanted was to be broken.

"Spank me Master…please?" she all but whimpered timidly, unlike the girl who muttered dark and sultry admissions when he was with her. Steeping past her, he sat down in a chair beside his bed and motioned for her to come to him, watching as she struggled to get up without the use of her arms before walking to wear Voldemort sat calmly.

"Over my lap. Bend over." He commanded and she did so, breasts grazing his thigh. Letting her middle come to rest against his legs Voldemort lowered his hand, caressing her bottom gingerly as he felt the soft skin beneath his fingers. Raising his hand, he hovered for a minute feeling her body stiffen in anticipation before bringing it down so that the loud slap echoed throughout the room. Immediately Billie arched, crying out softly and Voldemort raised his hand again, giving her what she had wanted.

He wanted to feel her jiggle beneath his hand, forgoing a magical whip in favor of seeing just how harsh he could be. With each slap she rocked forward, her cries becoming louder as her skin began to redden more and more.

More and more he continued to bring his hand down, pushing every part of his physical strength into each blow until Voldemort landed a single final hit which caused Billie let out an earth-shattering scream. Glancing down, he observed her flaming cheeks and caressed them softly, letting his cold fingers whisper against her soft and bruised skin. Kicking her legs she panted against him, flexing her toes and Voldemort squeezed the skin of her ass for a moment then reached down and grabbed a handful of her hair, pulling her head back sharply.

Gasping Billie yelped and Voldemort felt his erection grow. Grabbing her, he forced her to the floor and she bent down obediently, her red flesh cheeks against the air. Gazing down at her creamy thick thighs Voldemort found himself lost in her womanly form then stood up, letting a foot come to rest on the small of her back.

She arched slightly then straightened herself and he pressed down hard, feeling her warm skin beneath his foot then removed it, silently thinking of everything he would do to her. He knew he had promised to treat her, and the best thing to do in that would be to order her around like a ragdoll just as she liked. He would destroy and break her, and she would thank him for it like the dutiful slave she was, servant to her master's whiles.

Gripping his wand, he pointed it downward at Billie so that a shimmering red strand of light spilled forth, creating a silky cool bind that found itself around her neck in a collar. Grasping the magic tightly Voldemort let it wrap around his wrist and watched as she looked up at him on all fours like an animal, both humiliated and pleasured alike.

"Come. Crawl." He demanded, and began to walk so that she did so. With each stride she seemed eager to keep up, dragging her knees across the carpeted floor as he made his way to the large bed which often served no purpose but for now would prove truly worth. Getting onto the bed, Voldemort loosened the leash and Billie climbed on, sitting up on her knees and placing her hands behind her back once more.

Coming to rest on his back, Voldemort lifted and elbow and reached out, pinching one of her pink nipples roughly. He enjoyed watching the color in her cheeks as she whimpered, the tiny pebble becoming ever hard between his fingers as he wondered what to do with her.

Standing up, he said nothing and motioned for her to move and she did so, climbing off the bed and walking to the center of the room. Stepping around to the back of her body, Voldemort grabbed her arms then used his wand to cast a bind from the ceiling, letting it wrap around her wrists so that she stood with her arms tied together above her head. Tightening the ropes he pulled mentally so that she was forced onto her toes, swaying slightly as she turned her head and let her adoring eyes fall upon Voldemort's face.

Those wide eyes were full of so many mysteries. In this moment they wanted him and only him, while at other times they gazed upon him with quiet contempt and anger. And no matter how much they sickened him he could not deny those large blue orbs, absorbed by pupils as Billie quietly ached for him.

Stepping behind her, Voldemort placed his hands on her sides and began to explore her creamy body, listening as she breathed beneath him. His hands slowly worked up to cup her breasts, palms rubbing against her hard nipples and he let his fingers play across her skin, her sighs and moans only driving him further.

Moving to her thighs he pressed himself against her and she let out a muffled cry, his robes rubbing against the inflamed skin of her bottom.

"Press against me." Voldemort whispered and she obeyed, taking several tiny steps back and letting her backside press against his groin impressively. Moaning lightly Voldemort back away and grabbed his wand, returning to his magical whip which left impressive lash marks across Billie's already-scarred back.

Each time he threw the lash she was forced to stagger on her toes, both shying away from and accepting the whip eagerly. Each angry red mark against her white skin sent another throbbing wave into his cock and Voldemort thought of bending her over and driving himself into her soaking wet cunt, letting her screams fill his ears.

She yelped and screamed with each lash until finally he could take it no longer. Stepping forward, Voldemort grabbed Billie from behind once more and let his hand move below her bellow. Slipping his white fingers between her thighs he rubbed her, savoring her wetness which coated his fingers and spread across her inner thighs. Parting her legs slightly with his finger she continued to rub her, parting her lips and listening to her moan pleasurably.

Finally, he let two fingers slide into her tight passage and Billie gasped sharply, taking several steps. Crooking the digits, Voldemort kissed her shoulder in satisfaction at the feeling of just how wet she was. He had aroused her greatly without even penetrating her. She was more wet than he had ever felt before, pressing her thighs together as he began to move his fingers in and out.

Her previously soft mews became throaty cries and Billie moved her hips in time with each of his movements, forcing him deeper into her. Feeling her soft bottom against his flaming hard-on he silently breathed behind her, aware of nothing but the pounding in his shaft. He needed to penetrate her and feel her throbbing walls. He needed to feel her tighten around him when she came.

"My lord?" a voice called out, a wavering female voice full of sickening devotion that almost caused Voldemort to laugh with glee. On the other side of the closed door he heard Bellatrix standing, seemingly oblivious to the cries of pleasure which spilled forth, letting him know his silencing charms on the room had worked. With a wave of his hand he let the door swing open and watched with glee as Bellatrix's eyes opened wide, gazing upon the scene before her with horror and fascination.

"How kind of you to join us Bellatrix. Billie and I were just having some…quality time together, would you say my pet?" he asked, then twisted one of her nipples with his free hand causing her to scream out loudly, struggling on her toes. Pinching the skin harshly he listened to Billie's pained cries before letting go so that she yelled out, face bright red along with the skin of her breast.

"Billie and I here share certain interests. She's quite remarkable as you can see. Come pet, turn around and show Bellatrix what I did to you." He smiled, his glee only becoming more pronounced at the horror on Bellatrix's face. Slowly, she did as told and let her back face the brown-haired woman, showing off her bright red and bruised buttocks which he had so delightfully spanked to her liking.

"She's so wet now." He mused, then spun her back around and dove between her legs once more, feeling her strain against him in pleasure.

"Please Master I have to come!" she exclaimed and Voldemort stopped, retracting his wet fingers and bringing them to her mouth. Immediately she lunged forth and sucked them hard.

"You do not until I say so. Now Bellatrix, what is it you needed?" he asked lightly, working his fingers faster inside of Billie and feeling her shake against him violently as she attempted to stay her orgasm.

Glancing past her his lips found Billie's shoulder and he kissed the delicate skin of her shoulder, grazing it with his teeth. Her flesh was soft against his thin lips and he looked past her, eyes boring into Bellatrix's beet-red face as she forced herself to look away.

He didn't need to intrude her mind to know what she was thinking. Envy, terror, confusion, and awe at what she saw. Bellatrix Lestrange certainly played the role of no virgin. It was long known that her marriage was simply out of convenience and in her young days her wildness was known. Yet here and now seeing the girl strung up as he tortured her seemed a foreign concept and Voldemort smiled with pride at how his Billie handled it.

She screamed, struggling against him and he began to move his fingers even faster. Her screams heightened to an entirely new level, a mixture of frustration and angst.

"W-w….I-" Bellatrix stammered and Voldemort grabbed Billie's neck, squeezing tightly so that she suddenly gasped, struggling for air.

"Well spit it out!" he exclaimed with a hearty laugh, moving his hand from Billie's neck as he continued to work her furiously with his fingers.

"I-I have devised a p-plan for…..th-the breakout of-"

Bellatrix's words were cut short as Billie let out a piercing cry, her body stiffening as she tensed against him. Fascinated, Voldemort looked down as he watched her stomach invert, ribs piercing her flesh. She squeezed her thighs together and he moved his hand rapidly, rubbing her as she suddenly let out a strangled sound along with a stream of fluid which sprayed between his fingers and onto the carpet.

Finally her moans became silent pants as she shook in his arms, slumping forward and leaning her head down as her body all but melted. Moving his wet hand Voldemort kissed Billie several times on her shoulder them stepped away, wiping his hands on his robes and turning to Bellatrix with smug satisfaction. With a flick of his hand the door slammed shut and he turned to Billie's whose red face was covered with a thin layer of sweat.

"I didn't know…I could squirt." She breathed with a small chuckle and Voldemort shared her amusement quietly, then let his hands wander her body once more.

* * *

Billie exhaled a plume of smoke into the air, leaning over and flicking her ashes into the ashtray beside her. Pointing her toes she sighed then glanced back down at the copy of _The Iliad _she had been reading. It came as nothing short of a shock to have found it in the house amongst all the books filled with magic. The tattered copy of Homer's masterpiece was a hidden gem that reminded Billie of the life she was forced to leave behind.

Turning a page, she took another drag from her cigarette then crossed her legs as she lounged in the sitting room. Stretching her legs, she felt them ache with the discomfort of having stood on her toes for so long earlier in her encounter with her master.

Slamming the book shut she closed her eyes, unable to concentrate on anything but the encounter which had transpired earlier. She couldn't stop thinking about how it felt to come so intensely. Never in her life had she felt such a climax, so much that for the first time in her life (without even knowing she could) Billie got to experience the ever-elusive female ejaculation!

She wasn't sure whether she should be grossed out or embarrassed about it, though Marvolo seemed more pleased than anything. After soothing her wounds with gentle kisses and caresses (surprising!) he untied her and dismissed her before departing to find Bellatrix. At the mention of his plans Billie couldn't help but smile and looked forward to the next time she saw the brunette so she could excitedly gloat about being taken by the man she so obviously pined after.

It had only furthered her excitement, knowing she was under the watchful eye of Bellatrix. The way to woman looked away nervously, face red hot. Billie could see in the woman's eyes that she longed to switch places with the girl, no matter what position she was in.

The sound of footsteps drew her attention and Billie glanced up as a pale-faced man with greasy black dark hair and black robes walked into the room. Stopping immediately as his cold dark eyes landed on Billie he cleared his throat, looking around and she returned to a more proper position, sitting her feet on the ground and straightening the skirt of her dress.

"Sorry I was just lounging a bit." She offered and the man said nothing, simply staring at Billie wearily. As he stood there, she suddenly felt a light poking at her mind, the subtle hint of an intrusion as when Lord Voldemort attempted to enter her mind and read her thoughts. She could now recognize the feeling and immediately drew back, standing up and stamping out her cigarette into the ashtray.

"You know, you witches and wizards amuse me. You think the rest of us can't make it along without magic yet we manage to do just fine. For example when I meet a person, I can read them easily. I can tell a lot about them without having to access their mind." Billie raised an eyebrow. Crossing her arms, she strode towards the man and observed as he straightened with maintained dignity, not even so much as blinking as she called him out.

"And I could likely fill a book with what you don't know. Or does sleeping beside The Dark Lord grant you some sort of divine knowledge above us all?" he responded through pursed lips, his tone sharp and biting. After a long moment Billie smiled, unable to stop herself.

"I think I like you. You're not like the others. What's your name?" she asked. Indeed, she found herself interested in his attitude immediately. Though his words were condescending he seemed the type of man who cared not for those who were of no interest to him. He was not like the nagging Bellatrix who consistently spewed her hatred for all others unlike herself.

"Severus Snape. And you're…"

"Billie."

"…The Dark Lord's Whore. Or so commonly noted. Billie, an interesting name for a girl. No doubt chosen after the singer?" he raised an eyebrow.

"You know Muggle music?" she asked, suddenly curious.

"Enough."

"So has M-He." She stuttered and he tilted his head in curiosity.

"What was that? What were you going to call Him?" he asked.

"Well…he asked once that I call him Marvolo. An old name. I've noticed many are afraid to use his name."

"An old name indeed. It seems he has revealed many things to you he would dare not to others. Very few know the former name of The Dark Lord, and only one calls him by it. He has some sort of need for you I do not yet know what it is."

"…You think he needs me? For what?"

"Well obviously to warm his bed at night. The Dark Lord keeps none who are of no use to him. He surrounds himself only with people who he can use to the best of his abilities and that will serve him loyally. And here we have you."

"He speaks highly of you. You're…different from the others. He speaks of everyone else as servants but of you as…a Lieutenant perhaps."

"He has spoken of me to you?"

"Yes…not often. Perhaps once or twice. He speaks to me of you all or his plans. I suppose he knows I'll die with his secrets when he kills me. Besides, who would I tell? Any of you? None of the Death Eaters can bear to look at me and when they do, it's with contempt."

"You speak so calmly of death. It doesn't frighten you to be killed?"

"Of course it does. But what can I do about it? There's no escape. I cannot run or hide, anywhere I go I know he'll find me. What good will pleading for my life do besides making me look weak? My entire family and everyone I've ever cared about is dead. There's nothing I can do but accept my fate with dignity. He owns and controls me now, and if I didn't accept that I don't think there would be any way I could go on as I am."

Severus Snape stared at Billie long and hard for a moment then pushed several black strands of hair from his inky head, clearing his throat. Twitching, he glanced down at his arm and Billie followed his gaze to the mark which he quickly covered up as though ashamed which startled Billie. He was supposed to be one of Lord Voldemort's most loyal followers, why would he be ashamed of the mark bearing the symbol of his Lord?

Meeting her eyes for a moment he said nothing then disappeared in a smoky flash, robes cracking in the air and leaving Billie once again without anyone else.

* * *

Voldemort walked into the room, feeling all eyes shift attentively as nerves filled the room with the intensity of lightening. All eyes looked away, forbidden to gaze upon him without permission though he could tell now the thoughts running through the heads of his Death Eaters as he felt the presence beside him.

Billie clutched his crooked arm and he motioned for her to sit at the chair at his right hand, usually occupied by a sullen Bellatrix. Without a word she took a seat, divine in a black dress and earring with her curls pulled back and cherry red lips. Sitting down in his seat Voldemort glanced at all of his slaves then leaned forward coolly.

"The time has come. We must free our fellow Death Eaters from Azkaban. With the help of Bellatrix we may have the Dementors on our side which will make for an incredibly powerful army. But first, regaining the lost warriors who valiantly entered prison when I was away. Those who stood up unlike some of your cowards."

"What of Lucius Malfoy My Lord?" a voice called out and the room became still sound for Nagini's hissing as she slithered beneath the table. All eyes turned to the end of the table where Sirs Crabbe and Goyle sat, two men who scurried like rats during Voldemort's first downfall. Two men who served very little purpose to him save for small errands.

"Lucius Malfoy failed me and will remain in Azkaban as long as I see fit. Perhaps you would like to join him Crabbe?"

"How can you punish him when you gave him an impossible task?!" Goyle suddenly cried out and loud auditory gasps tore through the room. The two beside Crabbe and Goyle shifted nervously and Voldemort stood up, pulling out his wand the casting the Cruciatus Curse without so much as a word, watching as both men fell submissive with the sound of their cries reminding the room what become of those who dared question him.

Beside him, a small gasp and he glanced down at Billie who stared at the spectacle, her chest heaving. Smiling, he reached down to stroke her jawline when she turned to him, eyes glowing furiously with a deep purple tint that was most certainly foreign to him. Staring at him, a deep smirk crossed her lips and Voldemort suddenly found himself possessed by immeasurable lust. Before he knew what he was doing he grabbed Billie, slamming her on the table in front of everyone and pulling up the bottom of her dress.

Tearing off her panties he moved his robes and quickly entered her, slapping against her backside as he pumped into her uncontrollably while his Death Eaters watched.


	10. Snakebite

**A/N: I DO NOT own any part of Harry Potter. One review per chapter please.**

**Snakebite**

Billie scratched at the table, screaming loudly as he moved inside of her everyone at the table still staring, completely unsure of what to do.

She was going to climax at any moment. He grabbed a handful of her hair, yanking it back as he slammed into her from behind.

"Fuck yes. Harder please!" she squealed.

He grabbed her breasts, his body slamming against her backside.

"I'm going to come. I'm about to come." she whimpered.

"No." he snarled, raking his nails down her back and causing her to throw back her head as the blood rushed to the spot.

"Please I'm going to. Harder please."

"You will not!" he roared, grabbing a handful of her hair and yanking it back, causing her to cry out in pain as it strained against her scalp.

She gritted her teeth, closing her eyes and fighting her body as she fought her climax. Everything he was doing had her completely on the edge of destruction, and she loved it.

His pale hands snaked, making their way around her long neck. She gasped as he clutched her, squeezing her neck forecfully and forcing the air flow to only trickle into her lungs.

Billie clutched his wrist, sucking in all the air she could as he crushed her windpipe. The moment she thought she was about to lose herself he stopped, letting go.

"Come for me." he grunted, his lips remarkebly close to her ear.

Billie threw back her head, grasping him before her body tensed. She closed her eyes, seeing stars dance behind her kids before he grunted, releasing himself.

He collapsed, his head resting on her chest before looking up.

"Get out." he hissed to his company before leaning down, kissing Billie tenderly.

"My pet." he sighed trailing a finger down her temple.

"Marvolo." she whispered, putting a hand on his pale face in return. The name slid out of her mouth beautifully, causing him to shiver. He rested his head on her chest. She was perfection.

* * *

"Can I ask you something Severus?"

Voldemort pushed back the curtains to the window of Severus' small home, curiously studying the pain. From far away it looked like any other ordinary glass window, but up close he could see the miniscule cracks. Tiny bubbles and imperfections from whoever made it. Everything that made it a single unique pane rather than any other window.

Much like his Billie. Much like he himself.

It was a quality he looked for in each of his Death Eaters. Something that stood out. Severus was his most loyal follower, and by far was the most different from the other. Unlike as a young boy, he did not spend all of his time cursing Mudbloods and half-breeds like the others did. He had the best ideas. He carried out a task which Lord Voldemort trusted to no one else.

"Of course My Lord." he said, walking up beside Voldemort, confidently yet still somewhat catiously.

"How well do you know Muggle ancient history?"

Snape hesitated for a moment, thinking to see if it was a trap or not before answering.

"I do know some. Why do you ask?"

"I am sure by now you have received word of my pet, Billie."

"Yes."

"May I confide something in you Severus? You will tell no one?"

"Of course not My Lord."

"What I expected. Billie is...something else entirely. She is not human. Not remotely. I know that much. I can feel her. She has these...visions perhaps shall I call them? I have seen into her mind. Seen what she has seen."

"What do you think she is My Lord?"

"So far I have not seen her exhibit any magical qualities except her high tolerance for pain, but I do not doubt she has magic in her blood. I want to know what she is Severus."

The two stood in silence for a moment, before Snape spoke softly.

"Do you love her My Lord?" he asked.

Voldemort turned his head sharply, glaring at Snape furiously.

"What?" he hissed.

"You care about her that much is obvious. Do you love her?"

"Of course not. You would do wise to hold your tongue faithful servant."

Snape bowed in apology, before looking up once again at The Dark Lord.

"I apologize My Lord."

"You are forgiven. Severus, I want you to find out what she is and who she is. Ask her about her visions."

"Yes My Lord."

"And...do not tell the others."

* * *

"You will tell him the things you have seen."

Billie nodded, grasping Marvolo's cold hand tightly before sitting down on the bed. The man named Severus looked down at her, as though he was scrutinizing the very essence of her soul. Looking upon her with such distaste that for a moment she felt ashamed of herself.

She sighed, closing her eyes before feeling his pale hand beneath her, something that gave her the extra push to remember. She did not want to remember. The scenes she had viewed were horrific. Terrifying. She was quite afraid of going back there. More afriad of finding out what exactly she really was. The image of herself, black blood pouring from her body still stayed seemingly seared in her mind. It frightened her, a detail she would never tell him for fear he would become disappointed in her.

"It is always the same setting. A dark sky. Gloomy. Swirling black clouds. It is cold. There are screams and moans all around. And there is a man."

"What does he look like?"

"He is tall...pale...very very handsome. He looks as though he is temptation himself. Every time we meet he speaks to me as if..." she trailed off, blushing wildly and looking up at her master.

"Continue pet." he urged her softly, placing a hand on her chin. She nodded, turning back to Severus who stared at the two of them with nothing short of apparent observation.

"As though I am his servant. He tells me to do things."

"Things such as...?" Severus raised his eyebrows.

"Claim the lives of people above."

Severus narrowed his eyebrows, taken aback by the statement. It was obvious he had thought she meant sexual things. It was also obvious that he was very skeptical of this entire situation.

"You say they are not dreams, but visions?" he asked.

"Yes, although I do know one thing." she looked directly into his dark eyes.

"Which is?"

"The place that everything happens? The dark place? It is Hell."

* * *

Billie slowly traced the tube of lipstick around her full lips in the mirror before smoothing them together and puckering, smiling at the velvet plum color.

Her hair was curled, pulled back into a 1920's styled updo and she wore a black sequined dress which stopped mid-thigh, a true flapper-girl dress from Mrs. Riddle's wild-child days. She also wore a pair of black high-thigh stockings, satin elbow-length gloves and black shoes. She looked like an elegant mixture of Billie Holiday and Annette Hanshaw. True beauty.

He wanted to take her out and get more clothes. He loved nothing more than seeing her in the ancient clothes from long before her time.

Walking over he stepped behind her, putting his hand on her collarbone. As he did so Billie smiled, turning her head and pressing her soft lips to his arm. As Voldemort looked down he saw a red mark, shaped in the form of her perfect lips. It was almost like the brand he had given his Death Eaters.

Her eyes smoldered sensually and dangerously, and for a moment she reminded him of Nagini. She stood up before turning around.

"What do you think?" she asked.

"Perfect. You will be the perfect persuasion."

At first he had reservations about using her for his cause, but she pleaded. Begged for him to take her along, and seeing those sultry wide eyes, pouty lips, and voloptuous body, who was he to deny her the chance to serve him?

There were still those out there. Followers from before the first time he was trumped, that got away clean with barely a notice from the law. Those that bribed, did favors, begged, and slid on through without detection, then renounced and denied him.

But they would not get away from him.

Crouch Jr. had served him faithfully, sacrificing his soul to the dementors. Bellatrix had spent time in Azkaban. Severus had spent time with the Muggle-loving dimbat Dumbledore. Those who served Lord Voldemort were rewarded. Those who failed him would surely be punished.

And in this was his plan for tonight. A simple wizard. Antonious Smith. Death Eater during his first rising, deserting him after. He was going to pay, and Billie was going to help.

He could think of no greater punishment than seeing her, the most beautiful and twisted young girl he had ever met in his last moments of life. Lord Voldemort was going to make him suffer. Make him pay for his deception and betrayel.

"Do I look okay?" she asked, turning around. Her long lashes fluttered marvelously with the help of mascara. Simple makeup.

"You look a dream. Come, it is time." he extended an arm.

She took it, smiling and cuddling into his cold body.

And the two disappeared.

* * *

"NO PLEASE DON'T!"

The man fell to the ground with a loud crash, breaking the coffee table beneath him. His blood sprayed the ceiling and he wheezed. Naginig slithered away, making her way through the completely trashed sitting room.

"You denied Lord Voldemort. You betrayed him so you would not have to serve time in Azkaban." Voldemort hissed gleefully, his wand pointed to the man's throat.

Billie sat on the couch, watching with joy as the blood spurted from his wounds. She smiled, leaning back. She was sick and she knew it, and he didn't care. It was beautiful.

"I couldn't go to Azkaban! My wife! My children!"

"Silence!" Voldemort hissed, turning his head and facing Billie.

Her heart was bounding. Blood was coarsingthrough her veins. As she watched the man on the ground moan in pain, as she watched the red fluid seep from the double snakebites in her body, she became aroused. So very aroused.

She crossed her legs, shaking one impatiently.

"Please, have mercy." he begged. Billie giggled loudly. It was obvious begging and groveling would get him nowhere. The fact that he had even tried was more than humerous.

"Lord Voldemort is not merciful. Nagini!" he called.

They waited several seconds before the snake hissed loudly, entering the room. She looked up at Billie, flicking out her tongue before going to the man.

"Take your time with him." he hissed, turning back to Billie.

"You have done wonderful pet." he complimented her marvelously.

"Thankyou master." she bowed her head, her face flooding with heat.

"And for that...you will be greatly rewarded."


	11. Snakebite Part II

**A/N: I DO NOT own Harry Potter. One review per chapter please. Um, this chapter is...a little kinky to say the least. Somewhat disturbing actually. I got the idea when I saw the new Deathly Hallows trailer, so readers be warned...I purposefully made the last part less detailed so that I can reveal the entire thing in flashback later on.**

**Snakebite Part II**

Those long legs, spread out before him beautifully.

Voldemort listened to her moan and whimper loudly, her entire body seemingly aflame with passion and arousal.

Hands on her thighs he hovered near her entrance, teasing her immensely.

Her smooth skin on either side of him, he closed his eyes, submersing himself in lust. The heat coming off of her sent a rush of blood to his loins, and he stared, completely entranced my her swollen sex before him.

Extending a long finger, he gently traced her labia, causing her to twitch remarkably.

Voldemort looked up, gazing into her face, silently delighting as he fed off of her expressions.

"Please master." she spread her legs, begging for it and urging him to stick his finger inside of her.

He chuckled lightly, gazing at the wondrous beauty of her body.

She was perfection. Her round breasts, so warm and soft, large. Those perfect nipples. Her taut abdomen. Wide hips. Slim thighs.

"Roll over." he demanded.

She did so, and he stared at her full backside.

Voldemort looked down. He was completely erect, throbbing as he thought about being enveloped between her wet walls.

Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. A sick thought. A twisted thought.

A thought that he had imagined. Dreamed about for so long.

"I will return." he said curtly, grabbing his robes before sliding them on and leaving the room.

Possessing Nagini had always been a delight. He loved seeing things through her. Being nothing more than a pure animalistic predator, stealthy and deathly. When he was possessing her he was completely himself.

Other times he liked to watch. Watch her brilliance in inflicting pain. Watch when she sometimes chose to deliver poison, others to do nothing more than bite her victim, making them bleed out quickly.

He would watch her now. Watch her do something he had dreamed of.

His sick fantasy.

* * *

Billie turned her head as the door opened, her nude body still heated.

He had spent what seemed like an eternity now teasing her. Kissing her everywhere on her body except the places she needed it. Scratching her. Running his tongue over her wounds. Taking her to the edge and leaving her there.

She was soaking wet and pounding, her body on fire.

He came back inside, Nagini in his arms before closing the door behind him.

Billie's heart fluttered at the sight of him. He was her addiction. His pain brought her relief from the world.

She closed her eyes, waiting. She knew he would not leave her lying here. He could not.

Suddenly, she heard a series of hisses, and felt something cold slither onto her body.

Nagini crawled onto her, making her way up Billie's legs before crossing over, sliding over the sensitive skin of her vagina.

She gasped, sitting up quickly and causing Nagini to hiss wildly.

"Calm down." he snapped, grabbing her wrist before pushing her back down onto the mattress.

"What are you doing?" Billie asked, her heart racing.

"What I please." he said coldly, before pinning her down.

Billie inhaled sharply, feeling his cold hands hold her down forcefully.

She closed her eyes, feeling Nagini slither onto her again. The snake moved, its scaly skin rubbing against hers as it moved across her body.

The pressure was suddenly lifted off her, and she knew he had let go. Still keeping her eyes closed she relaxed as the snake moved across her body, brushing her sensitive areas and hissing delightfully.

Suddenly, she opened her eyes as she heard and strange noise.

Turning her head she found her master, eyes closed and hand wrapped around himself, grunting in pleasure.

Opening his cold eyes he looked from her to Nagini, pausing for a moment, unsure what to do. Billie felt a surge of warmth blossom through her chest at the sight, and leaned over, letting Nagini fall off her body.

She placed her hand atop his, and with a flick of her wrist began pumping her hand up and down, guiding his.

His breath caught in his throat, and he removed his hand, leaving hers, moving up and down his length. Billie smirked coyly, before bending down and running her tongue up the side of his shaft.

He grabbed her head, pulling her up before opening his mouth, close to her ear.

"I want you to say my name."

A delightful chill went down Billie's spine as his lips brushed the side of her face.

"Marvolo." she moaned seductively, pressing her body against him.

"No, say my name. Voldemort."

* * *

Voldemort grabbed his glass, taking a sip from his scotch before slamming it down on the table. He couldn't even feel the burn go down his throat. He truly had achieved making himself completely devoid of all things human.

Or so he thought.

He felt her warm thigh beneath his hand and turned, glancing at her momentarily. Her gazed was fixated upon Greybeck, watching him intently.

Her dark hair was down, framing her pale face and long lashes. Her eyes smoldered darkly. Dangerously.

Voldemort was struggling not to throw her down on the table right there. She was clad in a red dress, and her ample cleavage, threatening to fall from the strapless neckline.

The dress stopped mid-thigh, revealing her long legs, crossed elegantly and her dainty feet tucked into heels. She looked absolutely stunning, and he wanted nothing more than to throw her down right now, and pleasure her in front of the others again.

But he had other plans.

He wanted to know just how far he could take her. What were her limits?

Which is why he had plans for her on this evening.

It almost sickened him, the thought of Fenrir inside of his Billie, but he knew that Fenrir would be the most savage. He wanted to see if she could really take it.

Then there was Yaxley and Travers. It saddened him. All the men he would have chosen for this were currently in Azkaban, although it was only a matter of time before he had them sprung.

The rest of the men in the room laughed loudly, and he heard Bellatrix's wild cackle before standing up.

"Out." he said softly.

Everyone looked up, managing to hear him before taking off.

"Fenrir, Yaxely Travers...stay." he said before looking down at Billie.

Billie remained impassive. He had told her what was to be done here. Her reaction was...indifferent. For once he could not really tell whether she was happy or sad. Angry or frightened. She just remained calm. The only time he had really seen her upset was back at her house, after first witnessing the murder of her family.

At the thought he shivered. She could not be as cold as him. So where had these emotions gone?

"I have asked the three of you here because there is a task I must ask of you."

"What is it?" Fenrir growled, a small grin plastered across his predatorial face. Voldemort's upper lip curled as her saw into Fenrir's mind, which instantly flashed with thoughts of carnage and gore. He was nothing more than an animal. Undeniably unworthy for his Billie, yet his purpose would serve her well.

"I would like to introduce you to my...pet. Billie."

Billie shifted beside him, standing up with her head high.

Fenrir's eyes moved over Billie, and Voldemort's anger flared as Fenrir thought of ripping her apart savagely like a piece of dead meat.

Yaxley remained impassive, his mind wisely shielded from Voldemort's thoughts, and Travers chuckled likely.

"Billie, lie down on the table there." he instructed.

She did so, stepping forward before getting onto the table, her eyes staring darkly into his all the while. Voldemort looked up at his three before sitting down in his chair.

"I want you to break her." he said simply.

"What?" Fenrir snapped, licking his lips.

"Let me clarify. I want you, to violate her. Hit her. Curse her. Do whatever it takes to try and break her. But I promise Fenrir if you sink your rotting teeth into her flesh you will pay the price. You only serve one purpose to me. Easily I could get one of the others that you have infected."

Fenrir glowered, before looking down at Billie who was splayed across the table in effortless seduction and sensuality. He was beautiful.

He stood again before putting a hand on her cheek and bending down.

"Make me proud." he whispered, feeling her heart beat beneath him.

"What if I fail?" she asked.

"It will be more tragic then when I kill you."

* * *

Billie turned her head, closing her eyes as the man roared on top of her.

He panted like some sort of wild animal, moving inside of her fiercely, his grimy hands on her breasts.

He was pure savage. The blood was trickling down her legs so much that it was obviously apparent. There was no way he couldn't notice.

Then there were the scratches and bruises that covered her body. She did not know how long it had been the the three men spent torturing her.

Her entire body stung and throbbed, and for the first time the pain gave her no pleasure. It was simply pain. '

But she refused to break.

She bit her lip, before opening her eyes as he grabbed her face.

"Look at me." he growled, before howling wildly.

Billie kept her mouth closed, and watched as his face steadily became more and more red.

She turned her head away again, only away of the tearing sensation inside of her and his hand which had slipped around her neck.

And then...

She heard and loud roar.

Billie turned her head, instantly gasping in horror as he began to change in front of her eyes.

His face became elongated, and large fangs emerged before he growled, looking down at her and sinking his teeth into her neck.

She couldn't help herself. Billie screamed loudly, putting her hands around his neck and heard a loud shriek before he was blown off her.

She turned her head, feeling his thick ejaculate creep down her thighs.

And suddenly, he was standing over her, silently stroking her hair and face.

"Shh." he whispered, kissing her bloody face softly.

She turned her head, closing her eyes and silently letting the tears fall.

Death was better than the way she felt now.


	12. The Destruction of Beauty

**A/N: I DO NOT own Harry Potter. One review per chapter please. Sorry for the long wait, I was having computer issues. Everything is great now though. I'll have this up ASAP. Sorry also for all the sadism here. .it just really seems to play heavily with his character. I mean no matter how bizarrly sexually attracted I can be to Voldemort...he is still a soulless jerk. **

**The Destruction of Beauty**

Voldemort watched her, laying in the bed and staring up at the ceiling.

She had not said a word. She had not cried. She had not screamed. She had not done anything. At the moment he feared he had completely lost her.

He had taken great care to make sure that Fenrir had not bit her or gotten his seed inside of her. He could not bear to have her beauty hindrered by a hideous mark, or have her prowling around like some sort of uneducated werewolf. Even Remus Lupin was nothing more than an animal during that full moon, as civilized as he tried to act during the rest of the month. He also refused to let her give birth to a creature that would not be his. He could only assume that she was using Muggle methods of birth control, seeing as to how she certainly was not pregnant but still...

Other than that her body was bloodied. Bruised. Battered. Covered in semen. Covered in shame. He pulled out his wand before walking over to her and sitting down on her beside the bed.

As Voldemort laid a finger upon her she flinched, turning her head and refusing to look at him. He felt both at the same time an uncontrollable wave of hurt and anger.

He grabbed her wrist, refusing to let her go and began to mutter several spells, clearing the blood and ejaculate off of her body. He tenderly moved down hr body, healing her. When he finished he pulled away, looking down upon her nude body.

"Billie?" he whispered softly, watched as she stared blankly up at the ceiling.

She said nothing. She did nothing. Only continued to lay there, her eyes completely devoid of emotion. It was as if she was not even there.

"Billie." he shook her, anger suddenly flooding through him.

She was ignoring him? After what he had just done for her? Yes she may have been in pain. She may have been humiliated. She had been called names, spat on, and brutally violated. But in all that he had made her stronger. She had never once broke during the ordeal, and that was a lot to go through. He was quickly making her iron-clad. And she was not going to thank him for it? The ungrateful mutt he should have killed her right then an there, for being unappreciative of Lord Voldemort's gifts and opportunities.

But then he would no longer have her. That was kind of an issue.

"Billie." he said quietly, his voice cold and harsh.

She said nothing, giving him the response of a quick glance before turning on her side, facing away from him.

His anger soared tremendously, and for a moment everything in his mind went completely black.

Rage was all he saw. Anger was all that existed.

He threw himself on top of her, quickly raising his wand and casting a spell so quickly he himself knew he would not remember it.

She screamed loudly, and he closed his eyes, basking in her pain before shuddering wildly as he opened them, only to find himself looking at an incredibly fat Muggle man with a small mustache and his horse-faced wife, both staring at him with pure contempt.

"But please! It's not like I'm even doing anything! It's just an owl!" he heard himself say in a pleading voice, a voice that sent chills througout his entire body every time he heard it.

"I told you, I will not have those ruddy letters in my house! And why do you keep twitching like that boy?"

Voldemort sank back into his mind, the scene disappearing before him to find Billie lying beneath him, breathing loudly.

There was a bright red welt across her face and running down her neck and across her chest. The raw skin swelled immensely, and as he looked up he saw her eyes, completely filled with tears of pain as she tried to keep herself from crying.

"Look at me." Voldemort hissed through his teeth.

She did not do so, turning her head defiantly.

He grabbed her face forcing him to look up at her but still, she redirected her eyes, her pure insubordanince frustrating him more than anything.

"Look at me." he snarled yet again, pulling her face closer.

Yet still she continued to defy him, letting out the softest of whimpers.

Voldemort threw her down before pulling out his wand and cursing her furiously, watching as she writed in pain.

The brat. The bitch. They had not broken her? Well he was going to break her. Each day he loved her more and more. And each day he loathed her. He hated her beauty. Her voice. Her beautiful alabaster skin. He destested her eyes, alive and full of fury. Her remarkable body. Her scent. The power within her. The fact that she was a supernatural being of some sort. He hated it all just as much as he loved it. He knew. He knew there would come a time when he would kill her. That day would break his already-broken heart. But it had to happen. Someone as powerful as she simply could not be allowed to live.

But until not...his eyes zoomed in on her perfect full lips.

He would have her.

He leaned down, kissing her ferociously, only to have her push him back.

Voldemort looked down upon her, narrowing his eyes. She looked away from him once again, her dainty fists clenched.

"You will not defy me." he said quietly, so quietly it could barely be heard.

"I will not obey you. You do not own me." she retorted.

"CRUCIO!" he screamed.

She began to twitch, screaming wildly and rolling around the bed until he lifted the curse. As he did she slumped withing the firm mattress, her body completely defeated.

Billie lay there, her body trembling beneath him in complete weakness. Voldemort grabbed her, parting her legs fiercly before tearing off his robes.

"No, please don't." she whimpered, the moisture finally falling from her wide eyes. She looked up at him in desperation, pleading silently.

"You _will_ obey me." he snarled, digging his nails into her inner thighs before plowing into her.

She screamed loudly, closing her eyes and sobbing wildly. He fed off her fear. Her pain, becoming more and more erect inside of her.

She was not wet at all, no, her entire body tense and devoid of warmth. She felt like a stranger.

"Please, stop." she shook, choking on her tears. Voldemort cackled wildly, only thrusting harder inside of her.

Her cries. A noise he had rarely ever heard. They were quite beautiful. To see her in complete vulnerability. Unable to do anything. All she did was lie there, sobbing wildly. Her eyes swollen and red, her face flushed. He was violating her.

As he continued to move he felt a small tear inside of her and she shreiked, clenching the bed in pain.

"Does it hurt?" he asked, feeling wetness. He looked down, only to find smeared blood on his member. She was bleeding.

"Yes." she sputtered, her face bright red and streaked with tears.

He pushed harder, listening to her whimpers and cries before looking down. Her entire face was streaked in tears and the sheets were stained with her blood.

"Please, you're hurting me." she made one last plea, her voice completely filled with anguish and sadness. Ready to stop fighting and except.

She strained against him, a last effort to throw him off but he slapped her hands away. He wanted her to struggle against him.

But she did not. She simply lay there, her eyes staring up blankly at the ceiling, her face still wet.

He came, shuddering and twitching inside of her, falling limp beside her completely destroyed body.

Voldemort turned to her, putting a hand to her lips. Slowly, and weakly she lifted her hand and placed it atop his, squeezing ever so gently.

He smiled. Yes, she would always be his.

* * *

_Screams erupted around her, a woman stood in the corner, silently pleading as she grasped the body of a young child. _

"_Please don't take my baby. Not my baby." she wailed, clutching the youngling to her breast. _

_Billie walked towards her, grabbing the youth and prying it quickly from the womans arms despite her protests. She turned the little girl around, staring directly into her wide and fearful eyes. _

"_Please! Please! Take me instead!" the woman cried. _

_Billie looked at her, back to the child. Inside, deep within her black heart, she knew that it was wrong. But it was her duty. Without she and all others that worked for Him, the world would not be in order. There would be too much life. Death was needed in all facits of life. _

"_It must be done." Billie said quietly, before putting a hand on the child. _

_She felt the life slip away beneath her fingers, and closed her eyes, the warmth leaving the little girls body. She slumped to the ground, and the mother screamed in horror. Billie turned to the soul beside her, which only she could see. _

_She extended a hand to the little girl, who took it before looking back at her mother. _

"_Come." she commanded, before stepping to the window, guiding her deep into the night._

_

* * *

_

Billie touched the rose petals gently. Despite his warning, she far she had not yet fallen dead from the seemingly dangerous flowers.

She moved into the garden, wincing as the raw skin between her legs throbbed. With much protest she managed to keep him from healing her, wishing to keep the pain.

She was angrered. Beyond angered. She was also hurt. Hurt by his sheer cruelty and malice. But above all, she felt...

Liberated. She felt as if the pain had lifted so much off her her. Freed her in some way.

And she wanted to share this with the world.

"


	13. Valkyrie

**A/N: I DO NOT own Harry Potter. One review per chapter please. **

**Valkyrie**

Billie lifted a hand daintily, knocking on the door to his bedroom. The first time she had ever entered his own.

After an entire night and day in complete solidarity, she spent her time healing emotionally. Formulating plans. Thinking and reflecting on everything that had happened. Realizing what he had done to her. For her.

The door opened slowly, and the tattered-looking man she knew as Wormtail stood before her.

Billie stepped past him, not even saying a word before going into the room.

It was truly magnificent. The room was somehow done up completely in black, but there was some sort of light emitting from the ceilings and floors. It was beautiful. From the ceilings hung drapes of black sheer fabrics. Laces. Satins. An endless expanse of beautiful rich darkness. It was truly beautiful.

And the bed was quite a marvel itself. It was huge. Purely a wonder. She couldn't help but envy the fact that she herself did not sleep there.

There he was, sitting on the bed with Nagini wrapped around him. He stood slowly, taking in Billie and her clothing. She wore a sheer white dress, an image of purity that gave her the appearance of very false innocence. It clung the her breasts and hips, skimming her curvy body. Over her face was a matching viel.

She kneeled on the ground at the base of the bed, her head bowed.

"Leave us Wormtail." she heard his voice hiss.

There was the sound of small feet running across the room before the door slammed. She continued to look at the ground, all of her other senses picking up things around her. The shift of the bed. His soft footsteps.

His fingers were suddenly beneath her chin, and she felt him lift up her head. She looked up at him through the thick material, and held her breath as he picked up the bottom of the veil, pushing it up and exposing her face.

"You look quite beautiful." he said quietly, a long finger moving across the length of her jawline.

"Thankyou Master." she said, blinking rapidly as her face flushed.

He gazed down at her, a wry smile crossing his lips before he placed a finger on her own.

"You do have the softest lips." he whispered, his fingertip moving across her full mouth. Billie looked up at him, her entire body completely flushed. Any innocence she had, he found a way to take it away from her. Every time he touched her, all she felt was pure desire.

Reaching up her hands she gathered his robes, pulling them up above his knees, and looking up through smoldering eyes.

Voldemort moved back, sitting down on the bed and pulling her head close, eagerly accepting what she wanted to do.

He pulled up his robes, and Billie put her hands on his knees, grabbing him in her soft hands.

His eyes burned into her as she began to stroke him, her soft palms moving around his length gently.

Voldemort tilted his head back, closing his eyes as she flicked out her tongue gently, sliding it along his shaft.

She was going to pleasure him like she never had before.

* * *

Voldemort began to thrust uncontrollably, his entire body lost as he slid down her velvet throat. Yes, she was experienced. Experienced far beyond anything. What young girl could pleasure a man this way? To such perfection. Taking him to the hilt in her mouth, not so much as gagging. He was jealous for a moment. She had to be a slut. Filthy. But it felt so good.

She pulled back, taking a breath before going at him again, her silky mouth closing around him. Voldemort wove his long fingers in her hair, his eyes rolling in the back of his head as absolute pleasure pulsated throughout his body.

His queen pulled back, ripping the viel off her head before shaking her head back, her beautiful waves cascading around her alabaster skin. Yes, she was more than beauty. She was perfection.

She looked up at him. Her face was flushed, rouge-tinted lips slightly swollen and her cheeks a delightful dark pink. Her long dark lashes framed lustful eyes, completely dominated by pupils. She was beautiful. So beautiful.

Her chest heaved mightily, breasts and hardened nipples visible through the sheer fabric of her garment. He wanted to rip the clothing off of her, and grab her warm breasts in his hands, caressing them. He wanted to feel her nipples against his tongue, Watch her give in to absolute pleasure.

She stood, stepping back for a moment before pulling the gown over her head slowly, revealing her majestic body.

His eyes memorized her beautiful form. Her body truly was a work of absolute perfection. Those large breasts, perky over a flat stomach, which he discovered was quite taut and toned. She must have worked hard to keep her figure. Her hips curved into slim thighs, long legs.

She stepped towards him, putting her hands on his shoulders and closing her eyes.

Her hands pushed him back gently, and lay on his back. She climbed atop him, shaking her mane out of her face once before before grabbing his length, and slowly guiding him into her.

Voldemort hissed, putting his hands on her thighs. She moved her hips, tossing her head back as she moaned wildly, her body flushed. Her face full of pleasure.

Yes, she was beauty...and she was his.

* * *

"There's something I want..." Billie trailed off.

She watched him turn his head, his eyes narrowing as they both stood in the dark room.

He had left her that day, gone to do things she knew not of. But she knew what she wanted.

The entire day, she had spent thinking...the other night, something had awakened inside of her. Something that had been lying dormant inside for how long, she did not know.

She had already openly accepted her love of violence, but this was the first time she had ever really wanted to hurt somebody. Make someone feel plain, and watch as they suffered. She wanted it. She needed it. She was going to get it.

She felt beautiful. She was wearing a gorgeous black and red satin gown, with a sweetheart cut and full skirt. It was more than elegant. She took more joy than anything to find the clothes he had left for her.

He turned around slowly, his fingers on the mantle of the fireplace.

"What is it pet?" he asked softly, his voice warmer than she had ever heard before.

"I want..." she trailed off, chills going through her body as he continued to watch her. She stepped closer, putting her fingers on the mantle as well and standing in front of him, looking directly into his cold eyes.

"Yes?" he asked, his voice shrill yet still kind.

"I want to work with you."

She closed her mouth, and they both stood in silence for a moment. His hand landed atop hers, touching her fingers lightly with his own.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I realized...what was done to me...it opened me. It helped me. I am strong now. What of your Death Eaters? How strong can they be when they fear death and pain? I have experienced pain greatly. I no longer have the fear."

He stood there for a moment before hissing loudly, rushing towards her in a blur and putting a hand around her neck.

He squeezed tightly and she closed her eyes, feeling his cold hands press against her skin. He meant to frighten her. Intimidate her. But all that came was pleasure. If he were to kill her now, it would feel better than anything she had felt before.

"You cannot lie to Lord Voldemort." he growled, his long nails digging into the back of her lithe neck.

Billie opened her eyes and gazed upon him, before putting a hand atop his wrist.

"Lie?" she whispered, softly caressing his wrist.

"You do not wish to help. You simply want to cause pain to others."

She smirked, unable to help herself. Yes, he knew her better than anything.

"Yes...I do wish to cause pain." she bit her lip, closing her eyes and silently hoping for him to squeeze harder. He could crush her if he wished. She wanted him to harm her.

Voldemort slackened his grip before putting his hands on her face and pulling her close.

"You are perfection." he whispered, before sweeping her into a forceful kiss.

Billie closed her eyes, pushing herself up against his hard body and throwing her arms around him.

Yes, and he was her king.

* * *

It was simply astounding. The way she used his wand. She had said she had never used one before, yet the magic came completely natural to her. It was truly beautiful, how talented she was.

The man before them whimpered. Voldemort grasped the handles of the chair in which he sat, observing silently as his queen did wonders before him.

"You have defied Lord Voldemort. What do you have to say for yourself?" she spat, her words delightfully harsh.

The man...no creature, whimpered on the floor, shrinking away in fear and uttering several indescribable words.

Billie giggled, pointing his wand before whispering several words and casting a curse he had never seen before.

The man screamed in pain, his flesh becoming bright red and sores breaking out on his body before disappearing.

Then she did something he did not expect.

She bent over, putting a hand on him and closing her eyes. The room around them went dark, and Voldemort himself felt cold for the first time in his life, felt an inkling of fear at what lie before him.

Her eyes were strangely dark, alight with a fiery madness.

She put her hand on his chest and screamed, a language he could not decipher before the man began to convulse.

Then the life left him.

She had killed him with her touch.

What was she?


	14. Who is the Master?

**A/N: I DO NOT own Harry Potter. One review per chapter please. Sorry for the wait, been busy. Ah, writing this on this fine day, no school and snowed in. I love you Old Man Winter. **

**Who is the Master?**

"How was that?" Billie asked, turning around and looking up at Voldemort as a book fluttered off of the table.

"That was very good." he smiled, running his long fingers through her hair. "You seem to be effortless at magic." he continued, sniffing her hair and closing his eyes, relishing her beautiful and arousing scent.

"What else can I learn?" she asked, looking back at him through wide eyes and thick lashes.

He took a deep breath, as usual, overwhelmed by her beauty.

"Perhaps we should wait for another time. I must be somewhere."

Billie nodded, handing over his wand begrudgingly. Voldemort took it, grabbing her hand and pressing his lips to her soft skin before straightening himself.

"You will be alright pet?" he asked, looking into her eyes.

"Yes." Billie nodded, before standing on her toes and kissing him.

As she did so he closed his eyes, grabbing her head and pulling her closer as the warmth of her mouth sent waves of euphoria throughout his body.

She pulled away before smiling and looking down, her cheeks flushed and eyes filled with desire.

"When I return..." Voldemort said softly, putting a hand on her face. He knew what she wanted, and how he wanted to give it to her...

She looked away before sitting down on the bed, crossing her long legs, as if testing him.

He smiled slightly before taking a step back. He could not afford these distractions, he had things to do.

"I will return soon."

* * *

"You know, I _really _like this place."Billie smiled as they appeared in front of Malfoy Manor.

"Is that so?" Voldemort asked, looking over at her.

She nodded and smiled, feeling her heart soar as he looked at her. God, she loved when he did that.

"Then perhaps...I can give you a tour. After I finish attending to business of course." he said softly, grasping Billie's hand.

She giggled once again before lacing her fingers through his.

Voldemort stopped for a moment, on the doorstep of the manor and grabbing Billie's arm.

"What is it?" she asked, trying to read his face which was impassable.

As she did so a white peacock emerged from the bushes, stepping past them and making its way to the front lawn.

Billie could not help but stare momentarily. How she would love to own this home. Have her own white peacocks. She could only imagine how good the feathers would look on her. She could collect them when they fell out.

"Sorry." she smiled, turning back to him.

"It is alright. They are truly quite magnificent creatures. Lucius got something right. Now, back to what I wished to tell you. I have something here that I would like to give you."

Billie watched as he dug into his robes before producing a small velvet box. Already knowing what it was, Billie gasped, her hands flying to his chest. He opened the box, to reveal nestled inside a beautiful diamond and pearl ring.

"Marvolo!" she exclaimed, jumping up and down.

He chuckled coldly before grabbing her hand with an iron-clad fist and pulling her back.

"I must say you have no idea how much I enjoy spoiling you." he said, before plucking the ring from the box and slipping it onto her lengthy middle finger.

Billie put her hand up, examining the ring before smiling an throwing her arms around her twisted love, holding his cold body.

Much to her surprise he squeezed her back, pulling her close.

"Now come..." he said before raising a hand and knocking the door front door.

* * *

The room seemed to spin around Billie as she sat across from her lover over a beautifully prepared dinner.

They had arrived from Malfoy Manor, after Marvolo had a meeting with the youngest member of the family, they had returned back to the home before Billie had gotten changed, and they had met each other down in the dining room for dinner.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, watching her cautiously.

She nodded, not ever wanting him to see her weakness and took a large gulp of her wine, which just made things worse.

"I think...I'm sorry, I think I need to retire for the evening." she breathed, suddenly feeling flushing.

Billie pulled her chair back before standing up, fanning her face.

"Billie?" he asked, his voice suddenly unnaturally high. He stood up as well, and began walking to her side of the table.

Billie swayed uneasily, before clutching the table for support.

She felt her body leave just as he reached her, before falling to the ground and tumbling into darkness.

* * *

"_Awake my child."_

_She opened her eyes, lashes fluttering to find herself in a strangely warm place. She looked up at the man standing over her. _

_He was pale, with dark hair. Unbelieveably handsome. As her eyes adjusted, she suddenly realized...he was the man from her visions. The man she had been seeing in the back of her mind. Which had to mean that..._

_She sat up quickly, looking around. _

"_Easy child, easy." he chuckled, putting his hands on her shoulders gently. _

_Billie looked around wildly. They were in a dark place, stone pillars erect everywhere. Not twenty feet away was a black river, which seemed to scream in a million different voices. _

"_Where am I?" she asked, looking around wildly and inhaling the stuffy hair, which smelled of death and decay. _

"_You are back home now child." the man smiled, putting a hand on her chin. _

_Billie looked directly into his eyes, so cold. Those eyes, they were like death, yet his smile seemed enough to illuminate the entire place. _

_Quicker than it took her to blink, the climate quickly changed, going from warm to cold and she shivered. _

"_I see you are not used to the temperatures. It has been quite some time since you were here my pet."_

_As soon as he said the words, Billie looked up, looking at the man. _

"_Where the hell am I?" she asked, before pushing him back and standing up. _

_He stood as well, reaching out and grabbing her. _

"_You cannot act so quickly, please sit back down or you will sicken yourself."_

_The sounds. The smells. The sights. She could not. She looked around wildly. _

"_WHERE THE HELL AM I?" she screamed, before looking up above. _

_As soon as she did so everything around her seemed to move and sway again, like it had before. She turned back to the pale man, who was watching her with something that resembled disbelief before she felt herself fall to the ground once more. _

"BILLIE!"

Billie sat up quickly and gasped, falling right into Marvolo's arm. She looked around, surprised to find herself back in the old home, on the carpeted floor.

"Are you alright?" he asked, his face inches from hers.

Billie looked up at him, her heart pounding, before falling into his arms, grabbing him and refusing to let go. He looked down, putting his arms around her tenderly. Billie buried her face in his shoulder. She knew where she had just gone, and some nagging feeling told her, that was where she had really come from.

* * *

"It was strange Severus. When she came to she was completely frightened. It was as though she had seen something."

Snape nodded, looking up at The Dark Lord who was pacing back and forth in the bedroom. Billie lay resting in the bed, looking like a sleeping angel with her hands folded. Even Snape himself was blown away by her beauty, but he could sense something about her...something that was...off. Something even more dangerous than the creature he was standing in a room with right now.

"Has she continued having these visions?" Snape asked, daring himself to look over at The Dark Lord, who met his eyes and forced him to look away.

"She has not said anything else about it, but I suspect so. I do recall one occasion..." he trialed off.

"What seems to bring these visions about?"

He stood for a moment, before turning around and looking at Snape.

"Climax. Whenever she reaches her orgasm she seems to take off into another vision." he answered firmly.

Snape felt his face burn before swallowing back the thoughts of seeing her naked. He nodded.

"I see."

"Severus, do you remember when I came to you and asked you to look up some things."

Snape nodded.

"Did you find anything?"

"Yes My Lord, I did. It is only a theory, but it seemed to be the only thing that fit."

"What is it?"

Snape paused, before continuing.

"Your human girl, isn't human at all...not by a longshot..."


	15. Venus in Furs

**A/N: I DO NOT own Harry Potter, or Venus in Furs. One review per chapter please. **

**Venus in Furs**

"What is she Severus?" Voldemort asked, leaning closer as he felt his cold heart beat quickly.

"Well, there are a number of things, I cannot be certain by I do have theories."

"I thought you said there was only one thing that seemed to fit." Voldemort snapped, his anger flaring.

"Essentially they are all along the same line. Sort of the same species I suppose, but not quite. I do ask, may I take a look at her thoughts? If I can see the vision perhaps I could get a better grasp on which it might be."

Voldemort sighed, ignoring his building emotions before nodding and stepping aside. He quickly walked to the edge of Billie's bedside, before leaning over and shaking her gently.

As if she wasn't really asleep, her eyes fluttered open immediately and she inahled sharply.

"Hello." he whispered, putting a hand on her soft face and feeling her smooth skin beneath his hand. He gacve her a small smile, the warmth radiating from her face as a blush began to blossom.

"Hi." she smiled back, dazzingly of course. Her full lips parted, revealing those beautiful rows of straight white teeth.

Voldemort hesitated for a moment, preparing to kiss her before remembering that Severus was in the room. He turned around and nodded.

"Billie, Severus here is going to take a look into your mind, and try and discern the vision you had." Voldemort whispered.

Billie tensed, frowning slightly before looking away. Voldemort paused, waiting for her to protest but she said nothing. He straightened before looking over at Severus.

Snape nodded, walking over and leaning over Billie. As he did so, she turned her attention to him, looking into his sad eyes.

"I will try and be as swift as possible." he said, as gently as Voldemort had ever heard him speak before.

Moving ever so slowly, Severus placed his hands on Billie's temples before looking into her eyes. After several seconds she gasped, and Voldemort lunged forward before grasping her hand.

She and Severus continued to stare at one another for several moments before her hand began to tremor lightly. Voldemort looked down, before stroking her skin softly although she only began to tremble more.

He heard Severus gasp and looked up to find him shaking as well. As Billie's hand began to shook violently, Voldemort dropped it, looking back and forth between the the two. They were both shaking wildly, and it was only when he looked into Billie's eyes he noticed something.

Her iris' had gone completely black, and the color began to seep through her eyes, covering the whites. Her skin went white, and she opened her mouth.

Voldemort watched in both awe and horror as Severus let out a small whimper, and he began to blur.

Voldemort knew exactly what was happening. He had seen it happen, on several occasions as he watched the Dementors do what came natural, but never would he have guessed Billie to be doing such a thing.

Doing the only thing he could think of, he dropped her hand before pulling out his wand and screaming.

"Expecto Patronum!"

As the light emitted from the tip of his wand, it swallowed up both of them, spreading across the room and dancing up the walls. After several moments which seemed to be an eternity, the light disappeared, and Voldemort watched as Severus fell to the ground and Billie began to pant, looking up at the ceiling, her skin flushing wildly.

Voldemort stepped forward, catiously, his wand pointed right at her chest before she turned to him, eyes wide.

He had prepared to say the words. Cast the curse. Stop her now, before she was able to grow any stronger. But for some reason, he couldn't...

The words were right at the tip of his tongue. Voldemort had said them so many times, killed so many. But he could not bring himself to say the words to her. He could not bring himself to kill her like he should have.

He dropped his wand, staying where he was. Billie turned her head, her eyes back to their original color before she burst into tears, sobbing wildly. Severus got up from the floor, looking up straiht at Voldemort through undeniably frightened eyes, and Voldemort for once could not blame him, because he himself was frightened too.

* * *

Billie stared out the window, looking down at her hands which were still shaking. As she did so, she caught sight of a black strain, moving underneath her pale skin along her veins.

She had seen it since she awoke the second time. As the rain continued to hit the windowpane, she closed her eyes.

She was many things as of this point. She was afraid. She was excited. She did not know what she was, or what was wrong with her.

As the man she had come to know as Snape put his hands on her and entered her mind, she had lost all control of herself. She did not know what had come over her, the only thing that she was was that she did not feel as though she was in control. She quickly found herself mentally pulling at his very being, as though she was taking his soul. She could still hear his screams, echoing around in side of her head, and the fear. The fear that seemed to overpower everything.

She did not know what it was, nor did she really wish to find out. She remembered clearly, turning her head just to see his eyes. The eyes of her lover, so cold and daunting yet full of fear. He was afraid of her, and that hurt her more than anything. She could not begin to explain just what it was like, to be beneath him. Submit to him. She depended on him, and to have him afraid of her was something that hurt her tremendously.

What if she hurt him? She doubted that could possibly happen, but what if she _did_? Then what? Where would she be? Who would she be? She would then be completely and utterly alone. No mother. No father. No sisters. No anyone. He had already killed her family, and she was now physically and emotionally attached to him, and she could not imagine what she would do without him.

Standing up, Billie walked to the window before turning the handle and opening it, letting the cool air in as well as the rain. As the moisture hit her skin, Billie closed her eyes, letting everything go.

She could not quite say what made her do it, nor could she say why, but without knowing she found herself climbing up the chair that sat under the windowsill, and clawing her way up onto the windowsill.

Without thinking, without knowing, caught entirely in the passion of the moment, Billie plunged from the window, falling several stories down and closing her eyes as the wind whisteled around her.

She opened her eyes just in time to see the grass, falling faster than she thought she would and gasped as she hit the ground.

* * *

"What happened?" Voldemort asked, throwing open the door.

Fenrir looked up, jumping back away from Billie's body as Voldemort glared at him dangerously.

"I was out on the grounds and I found her, window was open." he nodded in the direction towards the open window.

Voldemort rushed over quickly, looking over Billie.

"Is she hurt?" he asked quickly.

"No, not a bone broken. She came to then went back to sleep." Fenrir replied, leaning back and watching as Voldemort stroked her head.

The truth was, while he still wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth into her flesh, Fenrir had admirtation for the girl. She had withstood nothing short of torture in the gang rape, yet still emerged stronger than anyone should have. She had been bloodied, beaten, and degraded. But still strong.

Voldemort turned back, looking at Fenrir.

"Leave us." he commanded.

Fenrir sat for a moment, before standing up and leaving the room, letting the two alone.

* * *

Voldemort walked down the hall towards his bedroom. Over the past several days he had been away, unable to check and see how Billie was doing. When he had left she was asleep, and he figured she would be in the same state when he returned. So far he had not received any news of anything different.

Severus had respectfully refused to help anymore with finiding out her indentiy, and Voldemort could not blame him. He was not sure if it were the initial incident between the two, or the fall from the window that seemed to have left her in shock, but that was exactly what she had been doing. Lying in the bed, doing nothing.

He had not looked any further into her identity either. As of this point, Voldemort himself was not quite sure he really wanted to find out what exactly she was.

Opening his bedroom door, he stopped instantly as he caught sight of what lie before him.

Billie lay on the bed, wearing nothing but magnificent furs placed strategically around her body. One of her breasts was exposed, the other covered and a trail of fur leading down between her legs.

Voldemort stood where he was, unsure of what to do as he watched her, her entire body sprawled in front of him beautifully.

She sat up and smirked, and he caught sight of her eyes. Her iris' were a bright red, a completely unnatural and frightening color and made Voldemort freeze in his tracks.

"Are you coming or not Master?" she asked, crossing her long legs.

Unable to deny his baser instincts, Voldemort walked up to her slowly, before standing at the foot of the bed where she sat, staring at him. Her red eyes were dark with lust, and she opening her mouth before running her tongue around her lips like some sort of hungry animal.

Voldemort grabbed one end of the fur garment she wore, before pulling it off fiercly and looking down at her body. She spread her legs wide, giving him an impressive view before putting a hand on her throbbing sex and biting her lip.

"Tell me what to do." she whispered seductively.

Unable to help himself Voldemort lunged forward, pushing her back onto the bed harshly before kissing her savagely, biting her lip and drawing blood. Billie cried out throatily, tosing back her head and exposing her pale neck. Taking the precious opportunuty before him, he bent down and sank his teeth into her neck.

The blood rushed forth, and he could feel her veins throbbing beneath him as he lapped up her red fluids, which for some reason tasted completely unlike blood.

The think liquid flowed into his mouth, and Billie moaned wildly underneath him. Voldemort sat up and looked down just in time to see the blood gush forth from her neck, and felt his heart pound at the sight as he looked upon it's color, completely black.

Billie turned up and looked at him, her red eyes alight with fury and passion.

"What are you?" he asked quietly.

She giggled devishlishy, before sitting up and tossing her hair out of her face like some sort of sex goddess.

"I do not care. I just want you. Every glorious inch of you on and inside of me." she whispered.

Voldemort listened to the words enter his eyes, his member hardening quickly. No matter what she was, those were words that he simply could not ignore.


	16. HeavenHell

**A/N: I DO NOT own Harry Potter. One review per chapter please. Hope everyone had a great Christmas, and Happy New Year :)! I implore you to remember before reading this, that Billie has no idea that these things are happening to her, and she is not in control of her actions.  
**

**Heaven/Hell**

Voldemort pulled the leather strap tighter, digging it deeper into the smooth skin of Billie's neck as she moaned loudly.

He continued to move inside of her, causing her as much pain as he possibly could along with pleasure.

Her body responded beneath him, and she put her hands on the bedpost, grasping it tightly.

The bedpoast squeaked loudly as Billie pulled at it with each thrust.

He was not quite sure what had happened. What had led to all of this. The moment he had walked into the room and seen her, eyes glowing dangerously, that something had happened within her.

She had proved that too, becoming a creature of complete lust. She had pounced on him, raking her fingers down his pale back. Begging for it, all types of ways.

And he obliged her.

He bound her. He hit her. He cursed her. He made her bleed, the black blood that continued to stream down her back.

He did not know what she was, or what she was turning into, but he knew it was dark, and possibly dangerous.

"Harder!" she screamed, her voice dangerously low. Voldemort grabbed her head, yanking it back so hard that he heard a crack.

She fell backwards, and Voldemort grabbed her, looking down as her broken neck hung lifelessly over his arms.

"Billie?" he whispered.

She opened her eyes suddenly, before sitting up, her neck slowly cracking once more until it was back in place again.

Billie turned around and giggled, her red eyes burning dangerously before tossing her head back as her lower body tensed around him.

Voldemort put his arms around her waist, before slowly pulling out of her. She turned around, looking at him and laying back down on the bed, her red eyes glowing.

"You want me to take care of that?" she asked, motioning to his still-erect penis.

He said nothing, grabbing his robes before quickly disappearing from the room, and wondering what exactly he had just gotten himself into.

* * *

Billie smiled, picking one of the roses from the bush in the garden. She twirled the flower between her fingers, ignoring the thorn pricks.

She herself did not quite know what was happening to her. She knew there were large gaps now, blank parts of her mind which she could not remember. She also knew that with each passing day, Marvolo was becoming more and more distant from her. Every time she saw him or spoke to him, he barely acknowledged her. He treated her as if she were some sort of creature.

She was intriguied. She herself wanted to know what she was. What she had been doing during those blackouts, but she was too afraid to ask.

As she pulled another flower from the bush, she heard a sound behind her and turned around to find the hulking brute she had come to know as Fenrir staring at her.

"Hello Fenrir." she said quietly, turning back to the flowers.

"Hello Miss Billie." he replied, cautiously stepping beside her.

As he did so, she could smell the blood on him. He was absolutely filthy, and his breathing was ragged. As she turned to him once more, she caught sight of a half-dozen or so small scratches around his face.

"My goodness! What happened to you?" he asked.

Fenrir touched her face gingerly, as if unsure what she was talking about before nodding.

"Got into a bit of a scuffle with another werewolf. Nothing big."

"Well, you're bleeding. C'mon, let me get you cleaned up." she said, grabbing his arm.

Despite all of her blackouts and her lover's isolation from her, Billie had become somewhat of a homemaker. She began preparing dinner, cleaning for those in the house. Taking care of the injuries that came through. The only person who seemed to really an open problem with her still was Bellatrix, and she knew the little bitch would probably never like her period, therefor Billie shoved it out of her mind.

She led Fenrir into the house through the back door, before pulling him up the grand staircase.

"You know, this isn't really necessary." Fenrir growled behind her, only struggling the smallest bit.

"Well, I would think you would at least like to take a bath." Billie replied, looking down, already knowing the answer would be a no. Every single time she saw him he was dirty. It never quite changed.

Billie led him upstairs before pushing him into the bathroom, and closing the door behind them. She immediately walked to the bathtub, turning on the hot water and folding her arms.

It did truly feel good to be taking care of these people. Even if they were wanted murderers. Since Marvolo had been spending less and less time with her, she had come to feel appreciated this way. She also knew that they respected her somewhat more after he had informed her that she was in no way, shape, or form human.

She walked to one of the cupboards, sorting through it for a non-feminine soap, then grabbing a bar and setting it on the side of the tub.

As soon as Billie turned around, she found Fenrir standing before her, completely naked and still filthy.

He stared at her, his muscular chest rising and falling sharply.

He was completely hideous. So much, that Billie found herself utterly repulsed, but as she continued to stand there, she felt an unexplainable surge of overwhelming lust.

They stared at each other before Billie grabbed one of the straps to her yellow sundress, then the other, sliding it down her body.

"What are you doing?" Fenrir asked, hi s voice coming out in a low growl.

Billie dropped the dress to the ground, before reaching back to unhook the clasp of her bra.

As soon as the article of clothing fell to the ground, Fenrir back up against the door, panting heavily.

"Fuck me." she heard herself saying, her voice several octaves deeper than she had ever heard before.

Suddenly, darkness began to cloud her vision, and Billie forgot who she was, becoming one with the lust that overcame her.

* * *

Fenrir grabbed at her, her body sweating as she moved on top of him.

He was on his back, Billie riding him furiously. He had not known what to do. She had seduced him so easily, so effortlessly, her eyes becoming dark red and filled with passion. Before he knew it, she had pushed him onto the ground, climbing on top of him before grabbing his length and impaling herself upon it.

She felt even better than he imagined, her passage extremely tight and slick with arousal. She could feel his walls, throbbing around him wildly.

She put her hands on his chest, digging her nails into the rough skin and Fenrir himself roared, never having felt greater pleasure in his entire life.

He lifted his hands, grabbing her breasts and squeezing them roughly, her hard nipples rubbing against the palms of his rough hands.

"I'm so close." she whimpered, leaning back on her arms and angling her hips so that he filled her completely.

Fenrir tilted his head back, his eyes rolling in the back of his head as he listened to her scream and moan on top of him.

"Hurt me Fenrir. Bite me." she growled.

As she said the words, he leaned up and grabbed her, pulling her down and putting his hands on her back before sinking his teeth into her neck.

She screamed and writhed beneath him, and he lapped up her blood eagerly, which tasted unlike anything he had ever had before. As he continued to drink from her, her moans got louder until she tensed around him, her toes curling.

Fenrir twitched and spurted inside of her before pulling back, looking at the blood spilling from her neck, which was jet black.

He stared for a moment before Billie suddenly gasped.

She looked around, then down at him, her eyes back to normal.

"Omygod. Omygod. No. No." she shook her head before standing up.

Fenrir continue to lay there, not sure what to do. Billie bent down and grabbed her things before stepping past him and running from the bathroom, leaving him on the floor to do nothing but hold the memory.

* * *

Voldemort stood at the window, Billie sitting on his bed with her knees pulled to her chest.

When she had come to profess her sin to him, he wanted to be angry with her. He wanted to scream horrifically, and strike her. Shoot the killing curse at her, and end her treacherous life.

But he could not.

He knew it was not entirely her fault. She was possessed to say the least. She had no more idea what was happening to her than he did. She claimed the only reason she knew what had happened was that she came to on top of the creature.

There was however, a bigger issue to deal with here. So far, she had exhibited none of the symptoms she would have if turning into a werewolf, but that still did not change the fact that there was a large bite mark in her neck, as well as semen inside of her.

The semen.

He grasped the windowsill, looking outside.

What if he had impregnated her? Voldemort himself refused to see his now-tarnished trophy carrying the child of another man. More importantly, carrying the child of that creature.

He turned around, looking at her. She sat on the bed, so pale. So fragile. So vulnerable. She sat there the woman he had become infatuated with. Her wide eyes met his and she looked away.

"I'm sorry." she whispered.d

Voldemort sighed, walking to the bed and putting a hand on her head.

"I forgive you, although you will be punished." he said coldly.

But Fenrir was to get the worst of it.


	17. Punished

**A/N: I DO NOT own Harry Potter. One review per chapter please, and Happy New Year everyone! I have huge plans for this story in the up and coming weeks, so get ready for quite the ride. The ending will in fact be explosive, although that won't happen for quite some time.**

**Punished**

Billie screamed, falling to the ground and gritting her teeth as her her master drove a whip lined with some sort of liquid substance into her back. The liquid burned into her flesh, causing even more pain than she could have imagined, and brought about an intense burning as well as stinging.

This was only the beginning. He had wasted no time after summoning her into his bedroom. The first thing he had done was grab her and throw her to the ground harshly, before taking a whip and sinking it into her skin. He was ruthless, angry guiding his actions.

Billie whimpered, not afraid to show her weakness for once. She had deserved it. She deserved to be punished, and he was giving it to her.

He grasped a handful of her hair, yanking her hair back and grabbing the whip, pulling her to her feet.

Voldemort threw her to the bed harshly, and Billie closed her eyes, inhaling sharply as he buried her face in the bedspread.

He grabbed her dress, ripping it from her body forcefully, and Billie closed her eyes, biting her lip as she felt her back sting horrendously.

"You are nothing more than a filthy slut." Voldemort whispered coldly, lifting the whip again.

Billie waited, anticipating the blow and screaming loudly as it came as she felt it dig into her flesh once more.

He grabbed her legs, yanking off her panties and rolling her over. As the fibers in the bedspread rubbed against the bleeding skin of her back, Billie felt a tear roll down her cheek.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." she whimpered, looking at her master, but all she saw in his face was cruelty. Anger. Fury.

He bent down, putting his hands around his neck and squeezing tightly.

Billie closed her eyes, gasping as the air left her. He responded by tightening his hands, not like he did when they were making love. Like he truly wanted to kill her.

As Billie closed her eyes, she felt something awaken within her, stirring deep. It fluttered inside of her, quickly spreading everywhere.

When she opened her eyes, her vision began to blur, darkness clouding. That familiar darkness that she knew. It consumed her, taking over and turning her into something different.

She was no longer Billie.

* * *

Voldemort looked down into Billie's eyes, which had quickly shifted to a dark purple. Something completely unnatural that sent Voldemort sprawling back.

He sat at the end of the bed, staring at her as she looked at him through her purple eyes and grinned dangerously, biting her lip.

"Billie?" Voldemort whispered.

"No...Dolor." she replied, sitting on her knees, blood still running down her body.

Voldemort stood, unable to think. Unable to do anything. He just knew one thing, the thought he had known all along, but never wanted to say aloud.

He had to kill her.

* * *

"Is that tiring? To do by hand?" Narcissa asked, watching as Billie carefully hand-stitched a brilliant magenta dress.

"Not really." Billie replied, looking up at the woman kindly, despite the fact that her hand was cramping up and she had pricked herself with the needle numerous times, not wanting to use the thimble.

Despite her sister Bellatrix, Billie had quite grown to like Narcissa Malfoy. She was absolutely nothing like she appeared, although Billie was told she only acted that way because of her husbands imprisonment. It was said that the incident had brought her down several pegs, putting her in her place. Nevertheless, Billie did enjoy her time with the aristocratic witch.

"Can I ask you something?" Narcissa suddenly said.

Billie looked up, catching the tone of her voice and putting the dress down at her lap. Both sat in the living room, waiting as the Death Eaters had a meeting in the dining room.

Much to Billie's surprise, Marvolo had told her he did not want her to attend the meeting, and opted to have her wait with Narcissa, who had also not been permitted to attend the meeting.

He continued to distance himself from her, much to Billie's dismay, leaving her to sit in her room all day and wondering what was wrong with her. What had caused her lover to become less and less interested in her.

"Yes?" she said, looking into her eyes.

"It's about my son..." she trailed off.

Billie inhaled sharply. She knew all about Draco and the task assigned to him by Marvolo, as punishment for his fathers failure. While she did not think it was fair at all, she knew that it should have been expected when they agreed to become one of the Death Eaters.

"Narcissa, as much as I would like to help you...I have no more power than you do. If He wants your son to do this, He's going to have him. He always gets what He wants. There's no convincing, no anything."

"But you have power over Him! We've all seen it! If you say something, He is bound to listen."

Billie gave a weak smile.

"Perhaps at another time Narcissa. Now, I do not know who He is anymore, or He no longer knows who I am. He has distanced himself away from me, I have less power than anyone, including your son."

Narcissa nodded, looking down and sighing.

"I love him...he's going to die." she whispered softly.

Billie extended a hand, putting it on Narcissa's thigh.

"Have faith, and things will work out. I will do what I can." Billie said.

Narcissa looked up at the young girl and nodded, standing up.

"Excuse me." she said, sniffling.

As she did so, Billie looked around the room before narrowing her eyes.

She had other things to talk with him about.

* * *

"Billie." Voldemort said, looking up as she entered his bedroom, completely unannounced.

She looked at Wormtail, glaring at him. The small man fidgeted uncomfortably before giving a fleeting glance at Voldemort.

"Leave us." he nodded.

Wormtail bowed his head before all but sprinting out of the room, and slamming the door behind him.

Voldemort looked at her. She looked at him. They both stared at each other, eyes cold.

"What is it you need Billie?" Voldemort asked, looking upon her. She wore a black dress, her hair up with diamonds dripping from her ears in neck. Under any other circumstance he would be more than attracted to her, but he did not know. Was this really even her?

"I need to know." she said, her voice unusually harsh and cold, almost rivaling his own.

Voldemort looked up at her, standing up.

"Know what?" he snapped harshly.

"What is with you? You have distanced yourself from me, for something I cannot help."

Voldemort simply stared at her, his eyes burning before he stepped towards her, his face full of anger and hatred.

"You would be wise to remember who you are talking to." he hissed, his eyes red.

Suddenly, her demeanor changed. Billie's face became soft, vulnerable. Her wide eyes swam with tears and she fell to her knees, grabbing his robes.

"Please. Please, I need you. I need you." she suddenly whimpered, looking up at him through those wide eyes and gasping.

She had become attached, she had become needy. Exactly everything he thought she was not. She was vulnerable. She was weak.

Voldemort tried to step out of her grip but she began to sob wildly.

"Please, do not leave my sights. Please do not leave me. I love you. I love you my master."

She was becoming Bellatrix, everything that Voldemort hated in a woman. He continued to watch her before noticing something in her eyes.

Once again,t he color had changed. A supernatural color, light blue, almost electric. Not hers at all.

He looked down at her pale skin, dark wavy hair, suddenly feeling himself overwhelmed. As though some greater force had overcome him. Voldemort himself felt possessed.

"Come." he choked, sitting down on his bed. She sat upright on her knees, putting her hands on his own.

"I want to serve you." she said softly and sensually, her voice still filled with need and sadness.

Voldemort pulled up his robes, letting her have access to exactly what she wanted, and what he needed.

His lust had gotten in the way of what he really should have done. He should have killed her before she transformed into something or someone else, but in this position he could not bring himself to do such a thing.

Her breasts heaved against her dress, and Voldemort watched as she took him in her hands. Those soft, gentle, hands.

She wrapped her fingers around his length which was slowly beginning to harden. Voldemort watched her, warm hands moving around him gently and deftly.

Billie slowly moved forward, putting her full lips around him and causing Voldemort to inhale sharply, closing his eyes as pleasure overtook him.

Her warm mouth surrounded him, and she relaxed her throat before taking him to the hilt.

Voldemort gasped as her velvet throat rubbed against his now-pounding erection, and he closed his eyes.

The words continued to echo in his mind though, the words that sent meaning through him and had changed his mind.

"_I love you. I love you."_


	18. Pleasure

**A/N: I DO NOT own Harry Potter. One review per chapter please. So, I just really feel the need to do a little advertising here. First off, anyone who hasn't seen the movie _Black Swan_ yet...that's what a true movie is. I do not kid you, it has now replaced _Fight Club_ on my Top 5 list of movies, greatest film I've seen in awhile. And Nina Portman is absolutely SENSATIONAL. And two, you know, I love music, every kind. But if I listened to rap, it has to be just that...music. I don't listen to that much, but when I do...it _has_ to be good. Kanye West's new album _My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy__ i_s probably one of the best albums I have heard in a LONG time. Check it out.**

**Pleasure**

Billie looked up at her master, watching as he moaned loudly beneath her touch.

She had come to his room to beg his forgiveness, and demand to know what was wrong with her, but the moment she entered the room the only thought she had was how badly she wanted to please him.

She wanted to give him the greatest pleasure of his life, and she wanted to hear him moan beneath her. She wanted him to say her name aloud, and give her pleasure in return.

He was hard beneath her, seven grand inches of pleasure, veins sticking out against his member, throbbing beneath her.

"Yes my pet, yes." he moaned, laying back on the bed. Billie leaned forward again, running her tongue against his shaft. He twitched beneath her, moaning loudly and she surrounded him once again with her mouth.

He began to thrust into her mouth, hitting her throat and Billie closed her eyes, feeling his hard length in her mouth. It was such a feeling, one she could not get enough of. Having all of him, choking her. Sliding down her throat as if he belonged. She could feel the warmth from him.

Lifting her hand she cupped his testicles gently, running her fingers across the sensitive skin lightly and flicking out her tongue.

Marvolo leaned down, grabbing her before pulling her onto the bed, on top of his body. Billie smiled coyly, pushing her hair out of her face as a blush overtook her cheeks and chest. She climbed atop her cold lover, putting her hands on his chest and running her fingertips smoothly. He replied by grabbing her breasts, running his palms over her nipples roughly and watching her. Billie arched her back in pleasure, before leaning down and ever so deftly, pressing her lips to his.

He responded eagerly, shoving his tongue into her mouth and grabbing her face, running his fingers through her hair. Billie gasped, their tongues clashing before he pulled away, looking into her eyes.

"Billie." he whispered softly, looking at her curiously.

"Yes?" she replied, feeling her heart pound with both lust and excitement as he said her name.

"Nothing, just..." he trailed off, running his fingers down her jawline before bringing her mouth to his once more.

"Tell me again." he said, breaking apart the kiss.

"Tell you what?" Billie asked.

"You love me." he whispered.

Billie paused a moment before smiling.

"I love you." she said.

"I love you whom?"

"I love you Master."

"No, say my name."

"I love you...Marvolo."

He shook his head once more, putting a finger on her lips.

Billie waited a long moment before closing her eyes, still afraid to say the name. After all this time she was still frightened. Everyone was.

"I love you Voldemort."

* * *

Voldemort but his hands around Billie, moving inside of her as she moaned wildly.

He pressed his lips to her back, grabbing her breasts from behind.

He was gentle with her, more gentle than she ever had been, and he quite liked it for once. Hearing her soft whimpers beneath him, feeling her warm body beneath his hands, slippery with sweat.

Suddenly, Billie cried out loudly, her body tensing as she came. She fell down onto her stomach, and Voldemort angled her lower body before shuddering inside of her.

He fell down beside her, before burying his face in her shoulder, listening to her rapid heartbeat beneath him. He sat up, looking into Billie's eyes. Beautiful. Human. The Billie he knew.

She looked down, putting a hand on his face and smiling.

"What?" she asked.

Voldemort said nothing, sitting up before grabbing his robes.

"Wait, what the hell don't leave!" Billie exclaimed, grabbing the bottom of his robes.

He turned around, looking into her wide, pleading eyes before straightening them and taking a lock of her hair before bending down and sniffing it.

Voldemort inhaled deeply, taking in her scent before standing up again.

"I will return." he said softly, before turning and Disapparating before her.

* * *

Billie gasped, stepping back as Fenrir Greyback entered the kitchen, completely covered in blood and cuts.

She brought her hands to her face, and he stood there, looking at her, face bloodied and beaten.

He panted, opening his mouth and baring his teeth before flying at Billie in a second, pinning her up against the wall by her neck.

Billie inhaled, his neck pressing against her windpipe so harshly she thought her neck was going to break.

"You did this. You did this to me. It's your fault you little slut!" he hissed, spitting her her face.

Billie closed her eyes, trying to kick him away but she could not, he was simply stronger than anyone she had ever encountered before.

"Please, I'm sorry." she rasped, putting her hands atop his but he growled, only squeezing tighter.

The air began to leave her, and Billie closed her eyes, summoning all the strength she had left until darkness overtook her. She closed her eyes, letting out a sharp exhale before she stopped moving.

* * *

Her head lolled over, and Fenrir chuckled, looking at her limp body. He let her fall to the ground with a thud, and turned around. Little bitch got what she deserved.

He had been tortured. Called things. Hit. Beaten. Broken brutally, and he could not fight back. He knew that biting The Dark Lord would result in a situation who chaotic and nightmarish he would never even think about it.

But she deserved it. He had been caught up in the moment, not having had a woman come onto him like that since his human days. He got his fair share of sex, by force of course. But not willingly. Not he himself being seduced.

Her body, her face. Her hair. Her scent. The taste of her blood. He could not help himself, but after she had told The Dark Lord and he had been tortured on her behalf, Fenrir knew he needed to get revenge.

As he walked towards the kitchen door he heard her moan, and turned around as she came to.

"You just won't die." he growled, walking over towards her. He leaned over, opening his mouth and preparing to bleed her dry before she looked up, her eyes completely black.

Black. Everything. Her iris', pupils, and the whites of her eyes no longer existed. Everything was just black.

She grabbed him, before muttering something undecipherable and throwing him across the room with such force that Fenrir felt his heart flutter wildly. He got up on all fours, getting into a fighting stance and baring his teeth.

She grinned wickedly, before putting her hands in front of her. In an instant, the entire room glowed brightly as light was emitted from her hands, looking almost like a Patronus. Fenrir fell to the ground, screaming as it felt as though a part of him was being ripped from his body. As if his very soul, was being pulled out of his body.

He looked up and she stood over him, smiling with those black eyes and Fenrir whimpered.

Suddenly, it was all over. He opened his eyes, looking up as the lights in the ceiling blurred. He heard several voices then saw The Dark Lord himself bent over him, looking down into his face.

"Help me." Fenrir croaked, knowing that Billie was more dangerous than Voldemort would ever be.

* * *

"Where are you taking me?" Billie asked, walking outside into the cooling night air as Voldemort grabbed her arm, dragging her out.

After Billie had fallen asleep in the bedroom, she awoke to find Voldemort in her bedroom, standing in front of the door.

She looked up to find herself tied to the bed, although not for sexual reasons for the first time. He told her he was protecting himself, which hurt Billie more than anything because she knew, deep down inside she had done something terrible.

Even if she did not known what it was, she knew there was something terribly wrong with her, and she was desperate to discover what exactly it was. She no longer wanted to hurt anyone, she just wanted to be.

After disappearing for several hours Voldemort had reappeared before dragging her out of the room, telling her to grab a few things.

"I know of someone who might know of what you...are." he said, turning to her.

Billie looked down at the ground before putting her face in her hands. She felt like a monster with no power. Whatever she had been doing, she couldn't even control herself which was the worst part about it.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't help it."

"I know." he said simply, turning to her and grasping her hand.

"Where are we going?" Billie asked again.

"Nurmengard."


	19. Discovery

**A/N: I DO NOT own the rights to Harry Potter. So, I've made a Twitter page for this story so that you can see updates, how everything is going, or anything else pertaining. Here's the link: **

(**www**.)**Twitter**(**.com**)**/#!/DWTDstory**

**Discovery**

Billie and Voldemort arrived in front of Nurmangard, the sky all but pitch black around them.

Wind blew fiercely, whipping across Billie's face and stinging her skin. She winced,realizing she had nothing on but the dress she wore.

Voldemort looked down at her, before pulling her into him. Even in his fury at her, he could not stand to look at her, freezing and timid.

A loud crack of thunder sounded, and Billie jumped. Voldemort looked down at her once more, before turning to her and putting his hands on her shoulders.

"Billie, you have to promise me something." he said.

She looked into his cold eyes, nodding silently.

"Tonight, we will find the man. The man who knows exactly what you are."

Billie nodded once more, furrowing her eyebrows as she tried to understand what exactly he was saying to her.

"If I am right Billie...I am going to kill you."

She stopped breathing, and everything around her went silent as the wind whistled. Billie moved from his touch, hearing the coldness in his voice and seeing it in his eyes.

"Kill me?" she whispered softly.

"Yes. You are going to die at my hand Billie." he said, putting a hand on her cheek.

As he did so she did not flinch away, but turned to it, closing her eyes as she felt his cold skin against her face.

She could not explain it. Something about his harshness, ferocity, and malice made her love him more. Love him more than anything. She was like Severin and Wanda. He had told her he was going to kill her, and what did that do? That made her want him to be even more harsh towards her.

Deep down she had known. Deep down she had known all along. He was going to kill her. Her life was going to end at his hands.

Yes, she knew. But did she want to be away from him? No, if she was to die, she wanted it to be at his own hands.

"Can you strangle me?" she whispered.

"What?" he said sharply.

"When you kill me. I want you to strangle me."

He looked down at her, before tracing her jawline.

"We will discuss it later. For now...let us enter the prison."

Billie took a deep breath, nodding as they stood on the cliff overlooking the massive prison. He extended his hand, and Billie took it, closing her eyes before they disappeared.

* * *

Voldemort pulled Billie along as they walked into the deserted prison, dark and damp. More foreboding than depressing.

As the population went down, so did the defenses. As of now, only two Dementors worked in the entire prison, and they were at his own command.

Grindlewald. Gellert Grindlewald.

The old wizard dwelled in the innermost part of the prison, isolated away from all in the world and as far away from humanity as possible.

Those in the prison had eventually died out, all but a few, and by now a majority of them were mad. Completely mad, from both the isolation and the prescence of even just two Dementors.

They survived on rats, and even those were dwindling down. These men had gone from powerful wizards, to creatures. Voldemort himself felt at home with the aura of the place. Completely surrounded by death and despair, gloom and fright. It was everything that he was.

And everything his Billie was

He was surprised. Surprised at how easily she had taken the news.

He had tried, several times. He crept up on her while she slept, preparing to cast the curse. He did not need her. He did not want her.

It was just that.

He did not want her, but he wanted her. He did not need her, but he needed her.

She alone had the ability to turn him into something he had kept suppressed for decades, and that did not go appreciated. With her love of violence, Voldemort should have became stronger, but he did not. He had caught himself twice, second-guessing before killing someone. Hesitated before torture.

She was doing this to hoim, and she had to go, but he could not.

When she had asked him to strangle her when the time came, his cold heart leaped. Leaped with a mixture of emotions. Joy. Pain. Anger. Sadness. Could he really take her life with his bare hands? Watch the air dissolve from her lungs as she cried for mercy at his hands?

They walked down the long corridors as the prison, past dozens upon dozens of empty cells. Most contained corpses, some old, some with the flesh still left. The dreadful stench of death everywhere, along with a mixture of feces, urine, and vomit.

Their footsteps echoed across the wet ground, and small droplets of moisture trickled down from the ceilings onto the ground. Voldemort watched as Billie put her hand to one of the cells, dragging her fingers across the metal bars as they continued to walk.

They walked. They walked, and walked. They walked until finally, finally in the darkness where there seemed to be no light.

They arrived upon the point. The cell of none other than Gellert Grindlewald.

Voldemort extended a hand, stopping Billie and she nodded before he walked ahead.

Looking down, the lack was rusted. He put his fingers around the bars of the cell, looking at Grindlewald who was slumped in the corner. Sleeping or dead, he did not yet know.

Voldemort could not help but chuckle. This man had once been greater. More powerful nd darker than he himself could have ever imagined becoming, and now here he was. In this dank prison, wasted away to nothing but bones.

"Hello my old opponent." Voldemort said, smirking through the bars.

Grindlewald looked up from where he sat slumped on the ground. Through long matted hair, Voldemort saw his eyes grow wide. In the corner was a small window, through which the wind outside howled ferociously.

He moved towards the cell bars slowly, shaking visibly.

"You! What do you want?" he said weakly, grasping onto the wall.

"There is something I need from you." Voldemort said coldly, dropping all hints of amusement from his voice.

Grindlewald said nothing, only looked past Voldemort at Billie, who was standing behind him and looking around calmly.

"Dear girl. Please, come here." he said, sticking a hand through one of the bars.

Billie looked up at Voldemort, and he gave her a curt nod before she stepped forward.

"Please, please touch my hand." Grindlewald rasped, his hand shaking through the bar.

Billie looked at him for a moment, general curiousity one her face before sh reached out and grasping his dirty hand.

As she did so, his face was overcome with such joy that Voldemort felt himself greatly repulsed.

"Alas, alas before the end of my days I get to hold the hand of a beautiful woman." he croaked, revealing several missing teeth.

Billie simply looked at him, before yanking her hand from his grip and wiping it on her dress. She looked up at Voldemort, before turning back to Grindlewald.

"Save it." she said coldly, so coldly Voldemort could not help but smile. He stood for a minute before turning to her beautiful face.

"Leave us." he said, dismissing her with a quick motion.

She did not object, only bowed her head before disappearing down the corridor, her heels echoing along the dark chamber. Voldemort returned to Grindlewald.

"She was not under the Imperius Curse." he muttered, almost oblivious of Voldemort's presence.

"No, she was not." Voldemort replied sharply, bringing Grindlewald back to the attention of the world and who exactly stood before him.

"Why are you here? To torture me?" Grindlewald asked.

"No actually, there is something that I must know. I need your help."

"_My_ help? Surely you jest!"

"I do not, although if you object I would be glad to torture you."

"Torture me all you want. I will die soon enough, there is nothing you can do to break me any further now. I am a dying man Tom, a dying man."

"DO NOT CALL ME THAT!" Voldemort hissed loudly, before pulling out his wand and violently casting the Cruciatus Curse.

It did give him pleasure to see Grindlewald fall to the ground, writhing in agonizing pain. Nothing he could do? As he watched the pitiful man, it seemed that he was as weak as susceptible to pain than ever.

Grindlewald panted on the ground, looking up through his dirty hair at Voldemort.

"You will tell me what I need to know." he said coldly, looking down at him.

Grindlewald said nothing, only stood up on shaking legs, grasping the bars tightly.

"What do you want to know?" he asked after several minutes catching his breath.

Voldemort hesitated, unsure where to begin.

"My...pet. Billie..." he began, looking into the eyes of the dying man.

Grindlewald furrowed his sparse eyebrows, begrudgingly urging him to continue in silence.

"She is...not human to say the least. Something has awoken within her, and I want to know what exactly she is."

Grindlewald leaned forward, musing silently.

"What has she done?"

"She loves violence. She loves pain. She loves me more and more as I continue to treat her worse and worse. She sometimes...becomes possessed? Do I say? Her eyes change color, and she refers to herself with different names. I watched the other night as she seemed to take a mans soul. She was a creature, a terrible one. But what? What is she?"

Grindelwald licked his lips, leaning forward so that his stench surrounded Voldemort.

"There is a legend. A legend, that was created very long ago. About a young woman, beautiful and more deadly than anything."

"I do not have time for fairytales and legends. What is she?"

"I cannot say for certain, but I can tell you were to find out."

"And where is that?"

"Romania. Bran, Romania."

Voldemort paused for a moment. He knew exactly what lay in Bran, Romania, and this sounded like nothing more than a foolish tale.

But he needed to know. The trip would not take much time, he could fly there. If he had been lied to, he would simply return and kill the old man.

Without another word, Voldemort turned, departing from the cell. As he did so, he heard Grindlewald whimper.

"Wait, do not leave so quickly. Wait!" he cried, giving in to the insanity of loneliness. Voldemort ignored him, walking to find Billie. To find his dangerous love.

Romania.

* * *

Bellatrix watched in contempt as Billie lounged carelessly in the sitting room, long legs spread across the loveseat.

She had stolen him. She had taken him from her. The Dark Lord. Her Lord. Her love.

She had taken him. She had stolen him from her, and Bellatrix hated her for it.

She did not understand. What did he see in the girl? Why was he so interested in her?

Yes, she was inhuman. The Death Eaters and inhabitants of the home had established that already, especially from what she had heard the girl had done to Snape and Fenrir.

But what of herself? She was far more superior than the girl would ever be. What made him have this complete obsession with her.

No matter what she was, she still spent her time with filthy Mudbloods, sympathizing and growing up with blood-traitors.

Billie looked up from the book she was reading.

"Hello Bellatrix." she said coldly. So cold that Bellatrix found herself shuddering for a moment.

Was it because of her body? Her large breasts. She had not known her love to be so superficial. There was no doubt the girl was beautiful, but Bellatrix had thought of herself as beautiful as well. She simply did not understand. Nor did she wish to deal with it.

Billie looked up at her, before sitting straight.

"Is there something you need?" she asked coolly, acting as if she owned he place. How dare she!

Bellatrix felt a surge of anger flood her chest, as she knew the familiar feeling before she broke into a fit of rage.

"How dare you speak to me like that you filthy Mudblood!" she shrieked, her face burning brightly.

Much to hr blossoming anger, Billie simply looked at her before smiling. The girl stood, walking towards her slowly.

Bellatrix stood as Billie came towards her, before putting her hand on her face. As she did so, Bellatrix noticed the shift in her eye color, which was completely unnatural and undeniably frightening.

She froze, feeling Billie's hands around her cheeks, and looked into her eyes, afraid for what was to happen. Her heart beat wildly in her chest and Billie smiled, before moving in towards her.

Bellatrix watched as her face got closer, her lips slowly parted and she breathed deeply, before pressing her lips against Bellatrix's own.

Bellatrix found herself unable to pull away, as if some erotic power had her now chained to the girl's lips. Without thinking, she kissed her back, forgetting who and what the girl was. Focusing on only the feel of a passionate kiss, one even more passionate than her husband could give.

Billie put her hand in Bellatrix's wild hair, and Bellatrix stuck her tongue into the other woman's mouth, suddenly overwhelmed by lust and passion.

As she let herself go though she tried to fight I. Deep down she knew that the girl had done something. She had done something to her, and whatever it was. Bellatrix was deeply afraid.

Those thoughts ceased though she she felt Billie's hands on her body and gasped, opening her eyes, then darkness took her.


	20. Mrs Lestrange

**A/N: I DO NOT own Harry Potter. One review per chapter please. There's a Twitter page up for the story, the link it on my profile.**

**Mrs. Lestrange**

Bellatrix closed her eyes, sighing as she felt Billie's fingers weave down her body, spinning pleasure across her stomach as she pulled off her dress.

Billie leaned forward, kissing Bellatrix forcefully and slipping her tongue into the other woman's mouth. Bellatrix tasted her, the sweet taste on his tongue and put her arms around Billie's curvy body, feeling her breasts against her own.

Billie pulled back, giving her a sly smirk and narrowing her dark eyes.

"Have you ever been with a woman?" she asked, biting her lip.

Bellatrix shook her head silently, a flush building in her cheeks. Billie put a finger on Bellatrix's lips, turning her head slightly.

Billie snaked a hand around, and unhooked the clasp of Bellatrix's brassiere, pulling it from her thin body. Bellatrix closed her eyes once more, and Billie kissed her jawline, moving down quickly and tracing her skin with her tongue.

She moved to her neck, nibbling and scraping at the skin gently with her teeth and causing Bellatrix to sigh loudly, blood rushing throughout her body as she quickly became aroused.

The young girl moved her hand, brushing the older woman's breast. Bellatrix gasped, as Billie's soft palm moved across her breast, brushing her nipple tenderly.

"We're going to have so much fun Bella." Billie grinned, leaning down and grabbing Bellatrix's small breasts in her hands.

Bellatrix whimpered, and Billie leaned down, flicking out her tongue and licking around Bellatrix's areola.

Bella's nipples hardened, and Billie quickly ran her tongue over the fleshy peaks,closing her eyes and biting down gently on the duct.

"Moan for me Bella." Billie said, her hair falling back from its strict updo.

Bella obliged her, moaning loudly and arching her back as Billie moved her tongue quickly, moving it against her nipple.

She moved across to her other breast, grasping the tender mound and kissing the warm skin gently. Chuckling devilishly, she moved down Bellatrix's stomach, trailing light kisses down her body.

She reached the waistband of Bella's panties, grasping them and pulling them down quickly past her legs.

She traced the skin of her legs, before moving up to the delightful V between Bella's legs.

Her lips hovered near Bella's sensitive skin between her legs, and Billie gabbed her thighs, spreading them apart and pressing her lips to Bella's labia.

Bella responded with a keen, clutching the couch tightly as Billie gently massaged small circles into her thigh.

Her fingers flew up Bellatrix's sensitive sex, and she leaned down, spreading her legs apart even further and lightly touching her clit.

Bellatrix gasped, and Billie pressed her finger, grinning before siting up and flicking out her tongue gently, running it over the small pearl.

She began to rob Bellatrix lightly with her tongue, before grabbing her legs, and running her tongue over her swollen sex.

Billie dove inside of Bellatrix, penetrating the older woman with her tongue. Using her finger to play with her, she lapped up Bella's sweet nectar, moving her tongue inside of her walls and grabbing Bella's thighs as she bucked against her.

Bellatrix tilted back her head, letting out an incredible moan as Billie pleasured her, moving her tongue expertly, knowing just the right places to touch ad how to touch them.

With one finger on her clit, and a tongue inside of her, Bellatrix felt nothing but absolute pleasure, moving throughout her entire body as her heart pounded and blood rushed through her.

She put her hand on her breasts, feeling her hardened nipples and sighing, biting her lip. Billie turned her head, finding the skin of her taut inner thigh and biting down.

Billie looked up at Bellatrix as she panted, before quickly slipping a finger inside of her wet passage, which was becoming increasingly slick by the second.

"How does that feel?" she asked, throwing back her head and crooking her finger, enough to make Billie squeal.

"That feels good." she breathed, arching her back as Billie added another finger quickly, before beginning to pump her arm quickly, moving her fingers in and out.

Bellatrix looked up, whimpering as she pulsated wildly with pleasure. Billie looked down at her, tossing back her mane of hair which had fallen loose before sitting back.

She stuck her wet fingers in her mouth, chuckling as she sucked Bella's arousal from them then grabbed her breasts, pushing them together.

"I'm very turned on." she grinned, before grabbing the bottom of her dress and lifting it up over her head.

Bellatrix found herself unable to tear herself away from the girl's body, which was a magnificent work of art, even she had to admit herself. She did spy several bruises on her stomach and an unmistakable bite mark on her inner thigh.

She wore lingerie. A lace red bra, which forced her large breasts upward towards her chest and creating a tremendous and beautiful swell. Following the line of her flat stomach, she wore matching panties and slowly worked her hand down, which disappeared beneath the garment.

Billie threw back her head, biting her lip as she rubbed herself through her panties, meanwhile Bellatrix was left with her sex pounding almost painfully and she was eager for Billie to return to her.

Reaching a hand down, she quickly touched her swollen lips as she watched Billie, moaning wildly. Billie looked down at her, smirking dangerously and reached a hand around, grasping the clasp of her bra.

Suddenly, there was a creak as the door opened, and the both of them turned to see none other than The Dark Lord himself walk into the room.

Instantly something snapped within Bellatrix, and she sat up quickly, syncing back into her mind. She felt her face burn, and fell to the ground at the feet of her master, her heart pounding rapidly.

"My Lord, I am so sorry. I do not know what happened, she...did something to me." Bellatrix gasped, not even daring herself to look up at him. She knew that she would suffer even worse consequences than Fenrir, and she was more than afraid.

Opening her eyes, she looked at the bottom of his robes and put a hand on the top of her unruly head, before bringing her face up to meet him.

"Yes, she has, hasn't she?" Voldemort said softly, before turning his head back to Billie.

Bellatrix looked out of the corner of her eye, sneaking a peek at the girl who was sitting on the couch, smirking coyly.

"You have been naughty again my pet." he said simply, and Bellatrix could not read his tone.

She looked at Billie who remained on the couch as she tossed back her full head of hair.

"I am naughty." she grinned, sitting on her knees.

Her Lord said nothing, only stepped past Bellatrix, his robes trailing behind him as he walked towards the couch.

He did not turn around as he addressed Bellatrix.

"Whether you choose to join us or leave is entirely up to you."

This was it. This was her chance to finally be with him. With her love.

So what did she stood?

She stood up, pulling out her wand and quickly summoning her dress before leaving the room quickly.

As soon as she closed the door behind her she sighed, still feeling the linger of Billie's lips against her skin, her tongue inside of her.

She sighed, pulling on her dress before taking off, leaving the whole mess behind her.

* * *

Voldemort listened as Billie lay across his bed, smoking and going on.

Unlike most, Voldemort actually enjoyed hearing her talk. He enjoyed having conversations with her. She actually talked about things that made sense, things that were important and mattered.

She was splayed across the bed, completely naked, her legs crossed in the air in nothing but a feather boa wrapped around her neck.

After walking in on her ensnared with Bellatrix, he could do nothing but drag her back over to the couch and do the things he had dreamed of with her.

And indeed, it had been even better than he could have dreamed.

He had thrown her to the ground violently, puling her hair, grabbing her breasts, touching her ass, doing everything and beat her.

Beat her physically, more than he ever had to a person before.

He choked her, slapped her, scratched and bit her, and it was the most incredibly and erotically exciting thing he had ever done before. She had submitted to hi eagerly, doing every single thing that he had commanded and asked.

And he was not done yet. He would not get rid of her until she was completely used and destroyed.


	21. Slave

**A/N: I DO NOT own Harry Potter. One review per chapter please. Sorry for the wait, I had midterms last week, so I had no time after studying. Just a little smutty scene for you. Enjoy ;).**

**Slave**

Billie walked up the stairs of the grand manor, grabbing her dress as she moved.

"Marvolo?" she called out, knowing he would hear her. The house was completely empty for once. Even Wormtail was out.

As she ascended the staircase, Nagini hissed loudly, slithering up the steps beside her.

"Well hello there beautiful." Billie said, bending down and picking her up.

Nagini flicked out her tongue at Billie affectionately, and Billie smiled, holding the massive serpent as best she could.

As she walked up the stairs, Billie set Nagini down onto the carpet. She hissed loudly before slithering in the opposite direction, and Billie walked down the long hall to his room.

As she stood before the door, the lifted her hand to knock, but right before her knuckles hit the door it flew open, and he stood before her, face full of the cold fury she had grown to both love and fear.

"What?" he said coldly.

Billie felt her heart plummet at his harsh tone, but held up her head, looking into his searing eyes.

"I wanted to see you." she replied, her heart fluttering wildly in her chest.

He paused for a moment, before stepping aside.

Billie walked into the room, wrapping the white fur boa she wore around her neck as she entered the room. It closed behind her with swift magic and Billie looked around his dark bedroom before turning around walking off.

Billie herself crossed the room, long dress trailing before she looked at herself in the mirror.

A tremendous change from the girl who's parents had been murdered what seemed eternities ago. She looked strong. Powerful. She looked completely unlike her self. The weak young thing she used to know.

She pressed her red lips together before turning around, to find her Master gazing at her from the foot of the bed.

He was simply watching her, and Billie leaned against the beautiful antique mahogany dresser, loving nothing more than feeling his eyes bore into her. She blushed deeply, and the only thing she could really think of was pulling down the straps to the thin dress, and sliding it down her body. She was sure her hardening nipples were already visible through her dress as she became aroused, and besides that, he always seemed to have a way o knowing exactly what she was thinking.

She crossed her ankles, standing on rather high silver strappy heels that matched the dress, and the two stared at one another before he stood up.

Taking out his wand, a black box suddenly appeared out of vapor in the air and he walked towards her, opening it.

Inside where brilliant diamonds, shining so brightly that she looked away, taking a step back.

His long fingers pulled a dripping necklace from the box before taking a step forward once more. The box remained levitating in the air, and Marvolo reached around her, clasping the beautiful necklace.

As his fingers touched her Billie shivered, her back stiffening as blood rushed through her body wildly. She closed her eyes, letting a soft sigh escape her lips before she felt one of his cold fingertips on her bottom lip.

Billie opened her eyes, to see his spindly index finger gently touching her plump bottom lip. She leaned forward, surrounding the tip of his finger with her straight teeth. Biting down lightly and pushing her luck, Billie flicked out her tongue at his finger.

He lingered for a moment before backing away, and grabbing her arms.

"What do you want?" he said, grasping her wrists tightly and holding them to his chest.

"You." Billie replied, blood rushing to her ears. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears, and she swallowed.

"Me?" he asked, amusement coloring his tone.

"Yes." Billie replied once more.

He said nothing, only reached into the floating box and pulled out earrings as well. Dripping chandeliers, surprisingly light when they hit Billie's hands.

She took out her own, tossing them onto the dresser behind her and slipping in the luxurious ones before looking right back into those loathing and loving eyes.

Marvolo pulled out his wand and muttered something, before Billie felt something trickle up her earlobes. She fingered them, finding nothing but the earring hooks and earrings she had just put in.

"What did you do?" she whispered, eyes glancing to his thin lips. She forced herself to stay where she was, fighting the overwhelming lust inside of her.

"That is one part of you I do not want to damage. Stand there" he pointed to the foot of the bed.

Billie did as told, taking a couple steps the turning around and looking at him, waiting for further instruction.

He walked around her, his eyes burning deeply into her before he stood behind her.

Billie closed her eyes as she felt the soft boa move across her neck.

It slipped down her back, which had been left open. The back of the dress dropped just to the top of her backside, and Billie slightly bent forward, wanting his feel his fingers on her skin.

She got her satisfaction, as light fingers traced her backbone, causing her to inhale sharply.

His hands moved around her body, grabbing the loose straps to the silver dress she wore before pulling them down, every so slowly.

Billie felt herself involuntarily sinking into his touch, and whimpered softly as his hands brushed the swell of her breasts.

Down came the dress, stopping at her wide hips but with a gentle tug it fell to the ground. As she stood in her underwear, her entire body felt as if it was aflame.

He took another walk around as if inspecting her for something. Billie stood, wearing nothing but her fine undergarments, and inhaled sharply once more as he put a cold hand on side.

"I am forever curious pet. How have you managed to maintain such an arousing figure?" he chuckled, his cold breath hitting her ear.

Billie turned her head slightly, closing her eyes for a moment.

"I do not know." she replied, and he said nothing else.

In an instant, he had pressed his body against hers, and Billie felt the smooth silk of his fine robes against her skin.

"Yes, such beauty." he muttered once more, before pressing his lips to her shoulder.

Billie arched her back, and another hand snaked around her waist.

As his lips moved across her neck and upper back, his other hand inched right under the hemline of Billie's panties, fingers brushing her soaked and throbbing sex.

He grasped the clasp of her bra, unhooking it before pulling it off of her.

The bra fell to the ground and he grasped her large breasts,cold hands rubbing against Billie's warm nipples.

Incredible pleasure flushed through her chest, and Billie moaned loudly, tilting her head back so that she came to rest on his robed shoulder.

Without warning, he grabbed her before throwing her onto the ground violently.

Billie looked up, from where she was on the ground, as he towered over her, staring down menacingly.

He slowly removed his robes, throwing them to the ground before sitting down on the bed, giving Billie a tantalizing view of his erect manhood. No matter how cruel he was to her, she knew she had that advantage. The ability to make him more aroused than any other she had ever seen.

Sitting up on her knees, she gazed upon his length hungrily, feeling a wild throb in her pussy.

His veins stood against the pale skin, each inch of his glorious member hard and simply calling her name.

Marvolo looked down at her, as if knowing exactly what she was thinking.

"Can I?" she asked, in a small yet sultry voice that she knew had an effect.

"Yes." he hissed quietly, and Billie sat up on her knees, putting her hands on his thin thighs.

She moved forward, grabbing his length in her hand.

As she felt him against her soft palms he let out a choked moan, tilting back his head and Billie moved forward once more and slowly lowered her mouth to him, tongue running over his shaft.

She closed her eyes, feeling him rub up against her tongue.

He moaned beneath her, thighs flexing. Billie flicked out her tongue, running it along with rim of his head.

He leaned forward, grabbing her before pulling her body up onto the bed and pushing her down.

Billie inhaled into the mattress, lying on her stomach and felt him grab her panties, pulling them down her legs quickly.

The cold air hit her swollen sex and Billie moaned loudly, making no attempt whatsoever to conceal herself.

She turned around, to find him over her, brandishing his wand.

With silent magic, Billie's left arm flew up, lining up with one of the corners of the headboard. In an instant a magical bond appeared, tying her wrist.

The other did the same, and she pulled her wrists away slightly, only to find them completely tied to the bed.

Looking up at him, eyes hungry, his hand found its usual position around her neck and Billie sighed, turning her head slightly as he leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, erect length rubbing against her warm thighs.

She spread her legs the slightest bit, wanting him to rub against her swollen sex but he pulled back his waist, taking away from her what she needed the most.

Suddenly, he sat back quickly, an odd looking coming over his face.

"Is everything alright?" Billie asked, slightly more concerned about the pulsating in her pussy.

He gazed right through her, before snapping back to attention and climbing off the bed, bending down and getting his robes.

"Wait, where are you going?" Billie asked.

"I have more important things to attend to than you." he replied sharply, before taking out his wand and releasing her from the bonds.

Billie rubbed her hands, sitting up on the bed and watching as he swiftly left the room.

She sighed, leaning back in the bed. What now?


	22. Lust

**A/N: I DO NOT own Harry Potter. Sorry for the long wait once more. I should be back to regular weekly updates now. One review per chapter please. Sadly, all good things must come to an end. I'll be winding down within the next few chapters, maybe three to five or so left. Until then, nothing left to do but enjoy these ones!**

**Lust**

Voldemort walked into his bedroom, surprised to see that Billie was still there.

All anger and fury he felt that she had intruded upon his personal sanctuary was lost though, as he looked down upon her sleeping peacefully.

Like a beautiful angel she slept, resting peacefully on her stomach with her head tilted gracefully. The sheets stopped just above her pert bottom, and he unruly hair was spread against the pillow where her face rested.

As Voldemort watched her, he couldn't help but observe that when asleep, she looked exactly like she had the first night he had met her. The seemingly-vulnerable Muggle girl who was trying to do everything she could not to let the emotion show through her face.

How far she had come. She was not a Muggle, in fact she was anything but, and she had come to be some sort of supernatural creature that rivaled even him.

He was still no closer to discovering just what she was exactly, and a part of him did not want to find out. However, she posed a threat.

If she were to rise against him, he knew she would reach her full potential in power, and perhaps become more dangerous than Albus Dumbledore himself.

Another part of him knew she would never betray him. It was one of the things he admired about her. No matter how brutal he was, no matter how much he beat or broke her, she came crawling back with nothing but love in those beautiful wide eyes. Nothing but an eager willingness to serve her master.

Unlike Bellatrix though, she was not so blinded by affection that she did not see the true Voldemort. Billie knew exactly what he was, and the full extent of his power. Billie knew that with one word, he could kill her.

Yet she still loved him.

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Voldemort tilted his head, watching her. She truly was beautiful, there was no doubt, no argument whatsoever about that. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his life at that.

Extending a long finger, he gently began to trace the path of her spine, feeling her smooth skin against his cold finger.

Warm skin, so smooth. So beautifully soft.

Leaning over, he gently pressed his lips to the skin of her back, turning his head and resting his cheek on the smooth haven.

"Marvolo?" she breathed, eyes still closed.

"Yes pet." Voldemort replied, looking up and watching as a series of bumps appeared on her right arm.

Turning slightly, she rolled over on her stomach, large breasts exposed and sending a rush of warmth to his loins.

Her lids fluttered lazily, and a small smirk played upon her full lips.

"Don't stop." she whispered softly, reaching out and trailing her soft fingertips across his arm.

Voldemort looked down at her, taken by the moment of tenderness and leaned in, kissing her softly.

She replied by placing an even softer one on his own lips, before sitting back and pulling the covers down, exposing the soft V between her legs.

He looked down, suddenly aware of his half-hard erection, and sniffed the air, catching the light scent of her arousal.

"You won't leave me like you did earlier will you?" she asked, her breathing significantly sped up.

"...No." he breathed, knowing it was the truth. His lust got the better of him as she lay before him completely nude, those magnificent breasts heaving and eyes dark with passion.

Goosebumps ran long the length of her pale flesh, and a light blush tinted her chest and blossomed in her cheeks.

Her cheeks.

She was becoming more and more gaunt each day. He himself was not sure what she eat,but whatever it was wasn't much. Her ribcage was more pronounced than ever beneath her breasts, and sharp hipbones jutted from her skin.

As though she knew what he was looking at, Voldemort simply gave her a glare that told her not to say anything before looking down and gazing at her body once more, before putting a hand on her flat stomach.

"You're skin is so soft." Voldemort said aloud much to his surprise. It was shocking the effect a beautiful woman could have on a man.

"Your touch feels good." she sighed, closing her eyes and biting her lip.

As Voldemort looked down, his eyes could not help but linger on the soft skin of her sex, as he fought the urge to plow his fingers inside of her, feeling her velvet inner walls.

He wanted to taste her. Feel her throbbing wildly around him and listen to her pleasurable screams. Feel her slick arousal on his tongue, the slightly-sweet fluids of her arousal.

Each and every thought sent a fresh surge of blood below his waist, as h began to harden by the second.

As if she knew, Billie reached out and put a hand atop his robes hear his manhood, her fingers brushing the area of is erection.

Involuntarily he gasped, tensing momentarily. Billie responded by playing her fingers around the area lightly, a coy grin on her face.

He should have pushed her away, got on top of her, and completely destroyed her. He should have plowed into her so hard that she screamed, and made her beg for mercy. He should have made her bleed, tore her walls and forced tears out of her eyes and pain through every part of her body.

But he could not find it in himself. He did not want to.

Shifting slightly, he allowed her to grasp his length through the fabric of his robes, closing his eyes as her fingertips brushed the sensitive rim of his prick.

Standing up, Voldemort pulled off his robes with one fluid motion before getting back onto the bed, laying on his back.

Almost instantly Billie bent over him, leaning forward on her knees and took him in her hands.

"Yes my dear." Voldemort allowed himself to moan loudly as her palms brushed his shaft once more. This time, he would not allow himself to be interrupted. Not this time.

As she bent over, her hair fell in front of her face and Voldemort reached out his hand, pulling back a handful.

She turned her head slightly, wide eyes dominated by pupil and desire. Touching him once more and bent down, blowing softly on his head.

The cool air sent a massive shudder through his body, and Voldemort closed his eyes, unsure if he had ever felt such pleasure in his life.

He stood completely erect, Billie's lips moving gently around his head.

"Does that feel good?" she asked, flicking out her tongue lightly.

"Yes pet...yes." Voldemort groaned, sitting up.

"Come here." he said.

She began to crawl towards him but he stopped, motioning for her to turn around.

As she did so, he found himself delightfully looking into her beautiful arse, round and near perfection.

Guiding her legs, Voldemort positioned him so that her backside was right over his face, and her swollen entrance right above his mouth.

With no warning he dove inside of her, lapping up her juices eagerly and losing himself in her soft walls.

She moaned loudly, leaning forward and grasping him with her hands once more, working her palms up and down his shaft.

He worked his tongue fiercely, just as she did hers. Both of them used their mouths furiously, listening to the other scream and moan in passion.

But it was when Billie let out a screech so loud and her lower body tensed, letting out a stream of fluids in a massive orgasm that he himself lost all control, releasing himself into her mouth.

She panted on top of him, swallowing down every last drop of his semen and giving one last thrust down that soft throat of her hers.

Billie collapsed on top of him, her lips lingering near his wet manhood and he himself could not help but continue to take a view from her backside.

As the two lay there, thoughts began to ran through Voldemort's mind.

Thoughts of an ancient creature he had learned of at Hogwarts. A creature that was described to him by none other than the basilisk itself.

As stupid as the creature had been, it did relay to him information on other creatures which lived in the darkness.

This particular one took form as a humanoid, traveling back and forth between the Underworld and the above, taking the souls of human beings.

Voldemort looked over at Billie, sitting up.

It had to be.

He grabbed his robes, pulling them on quickly and grabbed his wand.

"Where are you going?" she asked.

"Do not leave the room." he replied, before quickly moving over to the door and opening it.

As he slammed it behind him he pulled out his wand and locked the door, silently hoping that she would not come to the realization of what exactly she was.

* * *

Billie looked up as a flitting movement caught her eye.

There was a small window in the corner, and what appeared to be some type of bird was hovering outside, a rolled up paper tied to its leg.

Standing up cautiously, Billie walked to the window before opening it with surprising ease.

In flew in none other that a beautiful ivory dove, soaring past her in a circle before landing on the ledge and sticking out its leg.

Billie pulled the piece of paper off gingerly, and almost immediately the bird jumped from the window and took flight.

Closing the window quietly, she walked back to the bed before unrolling the paper, shocked to find how much script there was. There was also a small bundle wrapped inside.

Putting it down on the bed Billie gazed down at the letter, unfolding it and looking at the neat script.

_**Billie-**_

_**You do not know me, but I know you. **_

_**I was a friend of your parents, or what you thought to be your parents. I am sorry to hear of their death. It was truly a tragedy and they are being honored for all of their contributions to both the wizarding and Muggle community. **_

_**While the murder of your family was a result of trouble amongst wizards, your existence is something else entirely. I know that you are still alive, and that Lord Voldemort would not have spared your life for no reasons at all. There is a reason that he kept you alive, and I doubt even he knows that reason. **_

_**Much of this letter will not make sense, but inside the package is a potion, that will tell you everything that you need to know. **_

_**Drink it down to the last drop, and the truth will come to you. I hope to be seeing you soon. **_

_**XA**_

Turning over the letter in her hand. Billie pondered it.

She had not given the death of her family a second thought, which hit her in the chest like a freight train. The guilt wrecked her, and here she was have sex with the murderer.

There was the truth though. What was she? She wanted to know more than anything, and why some of the things were happening. Why she would black out, and awaken beneath or on top someone. Awaken covered in blood. Awaken, feeling as though she had just done something terrible.

Pulling away the layer of cloth, Billie pulled the small bottle of potion from its holdings and pulled off the stopper.

She gazed at the purple liquid, and brought it to her nose. It smelled like chlorine, and she did not want to think about how it tasted.

So she did not. Instead, she tossed the bottle back and felt it trickle down her throat, burning like wildfire.

As it moved down her digestive system she fell back into the bed, feeling as though her innards were writhing wildly and pulled her body into the fetal position, rocking as the pain threatened to engulf her.

After what seemed an eternity Billie hit something hard, and opened her eyes, to find herself on a stone floor.

Looking up, she saw a tall woman standing before her, wearing a long black dress with a smirk upon her lips.

"Glad to see you made it."


	23. Roots

**A/N: I DO NOT own Harry Potter. Sooooo so sorry once again for the wait. I had the Ohio state speech tournament, I haven't seen my own bed in forever lol. One review per chapter please, hope you enjoy the next few chapters winding down! Congrats to TheSlytherinWolf**.. **You guessed right! Billie is in fact a Succubus, although I took a few liberties with her, and decided to go with Greek Mythology here.  
**

**Roots**

Billie looked around, eyes wide as she stared around the place.

Looking down at her hands, she saw the bottle was gone. Both the bottle and potion, and she was clad in a long black dress.

"Where am I?" she asked the woman.

"You are in your mind. This is simply a mirrored representation of where we come from, but your body has not left where you previously were."

As the words hit Billie, she moved her arm as she felt a brush of silk, and recognized it as the sheets from the bed. She could feel them, although she was not in the room.

"How did I get here?" she asked.

"The potion I sent you."

"..._You_ sent that? Y-you wrote that letter?"

The woman smiled, revealing sharp teeth and dangerous sparkling eyes before taking a step towards Billie.

"Yes. You do not remember me, do you?"

Billie said nothing, only continued to stare at the woman as she came closer, stopping right in front of Billie.

"Do you even know who you are?"

Again, Billie said nothing, and the woman took her silence as an answer. The smile disappeared from her face, replaced with one of absolute seriousness and severity.

"Come." she said, extending a hand.

Billie stood for a moment, contemplating what to do.

Was she able to wake up? For the first time in awhile, she felt true fear. Her heart pounded intensely and it felt as though her blood had gone completely cold.

The woman held out her hand expectantly, and barely even thinking, Billie took it.

As she did, a chill went through her entire spine and she shivered. The woman simply smiled, before pulling her along a set of stone steps.

Looking around, Billie heard long moans and screams, that could only be described as those of angst and excruciating pain. The air was cold, and felt thick with an invisible presence.

Up the hard steps they went, and through a large stone archway with carvings along the length in a language that Billie recognized but could not read.

They made their way into another chamber, this one vast and wide, leading to three black curtains. The one in the center was moving ominously, and Billie felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up and gooseflesh raise on her skin as they walked towards it.

"Welcome back." the woman said, before stepping through the curtain.

Billie followed, and found herself in a large room, far as the eye could see.

The ceiling was covered by a stained glass dome, depicting images of what could only be described as demons, eating the hearts of screaming victims.

All around lay men and women, half naked with various adornments. One woman wore a bulls-head mask, another man lounged on a golden calf.

Most were in various types of sexual involvement, kissing, touching, moaning as they pleased one another. A few were simply lying there, staring at Billie and her guide.

There was a set of steps leading up to a dark throne, on which a pale man sat. A man Billie had seen many times.

In her dreams.

The women led her through the bodies, stepping over them. Most continued what they were doing, seemingly undisturbed. Others gazed upon Billie with looks of surprise and welcome.

Billie walked up the steps, careful not to tread on anyone. After what seemed endless stairs, her guide brought her in front of a pale and beautiful man, sitting atop a stone throne.

He stood, clad in black robes and opened his arms, smiling down at Billie.

"Welcome back my child." he said smoothly, his voice sending waves of something unknown throughout Billie.

When Billie only stood there, he moved forward and pulled her into his embrace, which caused Billie to gasp as she felt something like electricity flow through her body.

Pulling away, she looked at him.

"Where am I?" she said, unable to stand any longer, not knowing where she was.

"What have you told her?" the man asked, turning to her guide.

"Nothing." she replied, bowing her head.

He nodded before grasping Billie's hand.

Immediately, the air itself seemed to vibrate around them, and everything shook around them. The colors begin to swirl and blend, and they rotated until everything stopped and the two had appeared in a dark room.

Beautiful black curtains crossed one another, and there was a bed in the center with mahogany posts. All around were statues and carvings, torches and the most gorgeous gothic décor Billie had ever seen. The bedroom reminded her of her masters, and immediately, she wondered...what would happened when he walked in to find her on the bed? Would she be transported back to reality? Would she be trapped.

"Do not worry. These things are handled well. You will not be harmed." the man said, as if reading her mind.

Billie turned to him, looking around.

Above the headboard was a large portrait, of the man, being embraced by none other than...

"That's me." Billie breathed lightly, stepping forward and studying the portrait closer.

It was composed of light brush-strokes, with fine detail and rich dark colors. Billie was in a a long black dress, with her hair tumbling down her back and several strands that were braided. Her arms were around a man, standing beside her. The man standing beside her right now.

In the picture, she was sitting on a chair that appeared to be made of human skulls, and beneath her painted feet was the naked body of a man, his mouth open in an obvious scream.

Beside his body though, was a shadow which was somehow attached to his body. From his expression, it was as if the shadow was being pulled from his very body.

Looking up at the man beside her, she opened her mouth, but he simply held up a hand.

"Sit." he commanded, pointing to the bed.

Without being told twice she did so, her back rigid as every part of her body questioned who she was and where she was.

"I know you must have many questions now, but we have a limited amount of time. The potion wears off after half and hour, and until I tell you how to return to your true form, you will be stuck on Earth."

"My...'true form'?"

"Yes, but that will come later. First I would assume you were wondering...what is this place?"

"Yes, that's a starter."

"This is a representation of your home."

"My home?"

"Yes...the Underworld."

Billie took a moment to absorb it, although to her surprise, it did not come as much of a shock. She had known there was something supernatural about her from the way Marvolo had begun to treat her.

"What about my parents? I remember growing up. I have baby pictures, I remember things from when I was a child."

"And you also remember things from your previous life."

The words hit her hard, because of the truth. The visions she had been having every time she climaxed. They were not visions, but memories...and the changes that had happened to her...

"Your human body is returning to its original form, but unless you return here before the transformation is complete, it will overpower you and you will die."

"I do not understand. My human form? Memories? All of this? What am I?"

The words rang through the dark room, and the both of them sat there for a moment before he answered.

He got down on one knee, putting his hands on Billie's thighs. As he did so for the first time, she got a glance at his eyes. A magnificent ocher, burning darkly and dangerously.

"You are more beautiful than ever." he whispered, staring right up at her.

"T-thankyou." Billie stammered, suddenly feeling herself become weak underneath his gaze.

He smiled, revealing beautiful white teeth before standing up.

"You have lost some of your powers though. At times you almost had be unable to resist you. I am sure that when you return you will be to your usual strength, if not stronger."

"But I still do not understand...what am I?"

He paused for a moment, before crossing his hands, long fingers interlacing with one another.

"You my dear, are part of an ancient and long race of beings. A very proud race. Succubi have existed since the beginnings of time."

"Succubi?" Billie whispered.

"Yes. You are a Succubus."

"...Succubus." Billie repeated again, letting the word flow from her tongue. "What exactly is that?"

"A mythical creature by human standards, although it is quite humorous how little they know. You are a member of the Underworld, down here with me. Only the most beautiful are created, and sent above to the Earth to take the souls of men. Sometimes through seduction, other times not. You have been by my side for years now. My apprentice. My..."

He trailed off, looking up at Billie as the smile disappeared from his face.

"It would be a lie to say I was not jealous. I had to watch you with Him. I must say, I was impressed that you found such a man on earth. Immortal, powerful. Of course, he does not have my looks. Nevertheless, you found a man who had done what I could not imagine."

"And what was that?"

He hesitated a moment, before answering.

"When you went to Earth to take human form, I never imagined that you would find the most powerful wizard on the face of the planet. You found someone who was more animal than man, and that was when I knew it was time for you to come home."

"But I don't understand. Why? Why was I taken from here or wherever?"

He took a moment, smirking before looking away.

"I see you do not take being inhuman as much of a surprise?"

Billie lowered her head.

"Well...no...I mean, stuff has been happening to me, but I thought that maybe I was some type of witch or something."

"No, but to answer your question...there comes a time. A time where every being that lives down here, begins to feel the slightest bit of remorse. Questioning. They feel sorry after taking the soul of a child. They are curious of the human world. Naturally I squash all of these inquiries instantly, but you...well you, have long been my companion. My beautiful lover, a supreme worker. I allowed you, for I knew there would come a time when you would come back to me, returning with nothing but longing to be back."

She listened to his words, hearing them almost sink inside of her. As she did so, several thoughts went through her head.

Things had begun to stop making sense. When she had been having blackouts. The oddities that appeared when she was a child. Her parents had not allowed her to play with the other kids of the neighborhood, and she had been home schooled. By the time she was old enough to understand, her parents had simply told her she was mentally ill as a child and Billie accepted that.

She had always wondered as well. She had always wondered why he had spared her. Why he had murdered her entire family, but not her.

Had he known there was something about her? Had he known she was inhuman, all along? Was that the reason her parents had died?

"So...how long have I been here? What is my name? Or yours? And how am I supposed to get back"

"Your memories will come back as soon as you return for good, but for now, we must return you to normality. Come." he said, extending a hand.

Unwillingly, Billie stood and walked over to him before grabbing his hand.

It was cold, much like the one she had become so familiar with back in the real world. Suddenly, the entire chamber seemed to spin around her, and Billie gasped.

Stepping closer, he came before putting a hand on her face as the chamber began to disappear.

"When you return, my love."

Suddenly, she gasped, arching her back and opening her eye to see the ceiling of Marvolo's bedroom before her.

Sitting up, Billie felt something hot burning on her chest, almost like a brand.

Getting up, she walked over to the mirror and looked at it, touching the skin gingerly.

Beneath her skin, several black veins branched out, traveling across her chest and slowly spreading to her neck.

Turning around, the door opened and she covered herself by slipping on a necklace and looking into the cold eyes of her lover.

They bored into her, and he walked over, pressing his hands onto her head forcefully and staring into her eyes.

"What are you doing?" she asked, straining slightly as pain began to run through her head where his fingers pressed.

As he pressed his fingers deeper into her skull, Billie tried to close her eyes but he shook her violently. Her eyes met his red ones, his gaze seeming to peer into her very soul. And then...

It was as if everything in her head was being pushed aside. An uninvited visitor, sifting through her memories.

"NO!" she screamed, throwing him off of her and falling to the ground. As she looked up though, he gave her a look more frightening than she had ever seen.

A look of terror.

He knew.

"Marvolo." she whispered, reaching a hand out to grasp his robes but he stepped away from her quickly, before disappearing from the room with a loud CRACK.

And leaving Billie alone.

Billie, or whoever she really was.


	24. Final Solution

**A/N: I DO NOT own Harry Potter. Ahhh, second to last chappie. Enjoy!**

**Final Solution**

"Severus!"

Severus Snape stood, bounding across the sitting room of his small cottage as The Dark Lord himself stood in his home.

"Yes My Lord." he said quietly, his heart racing.

He had just been in contact with none other than Dumbledore, and Snape quickly struggled to empty his mind in panic as Lord Voldemort stood before him. To his relief, The Dark Lord was not even looking directly at him.

"I need something from you. I have discovered what my Billie is, and I must find out more."

"Yes My Lord."

"Billie is a Succubus. Do you know the meaning of that word or species?"

At that, Snape blanched. He knew just the meaning of that word. He was surprised that The Dark Lord himself did not.

"Yes My Lord."

"Is she dangerous?"

At that Snape hesitated. He never wanted to be the one to tell The Dark Lord there was someone far more powerful than he was, but it would be even more unjust not to. Of course, it would be a great tun of events if Billie would be the one to kill him. Of course in this stage, some of the Death Eaters were sure to continue on his plans, especially Bellatrix.

"Yes. She-she is extremely dangerous My Lord."

"How dangerous?"

"My Lord, if she becomes aware of her true power...she can kill not just you, but all of us."

"None can kill me Severus."

"My Lord..."

The two stood in silence before he spoke up again.

"How do I kill her?"

"Well, just like you she cannot simply be killed. She can still live without a body. Essentially she is a demon. There are many myths, but only one true way to kill her."

"I have not come for myths Severus, I have come for the answer to my question." Voldemort hissed angrily, fingers tightening around his wand.

"My apologies My Lord. The true power of a Succubus is her unleashed beauty. She has not taken true form yet, but once she does she can instantly put men under her spell. The one thing Succubi enjoy more than taking the souls of Men is looking at their own reflection. Narcissism is their downfall. When Billie assumes her true form, you will have to present her with a mirror. As soon as she becomes trapped within drop it to the ground and be sure that the glass shatters."

"And that is the only way?"

"Well...there is another, although it has only worked once."

"What is it?"

"A Succubus is at the height of her power during...sexual intercourse. If you were to...engage her, shall I say? During the moment of her climax you must stab her through the heart with a silver knife, but only during that moment."

Voldemort nodded, paying no mind from the embarrassment he could feel almost wavering off of Snape as he said the word "climax". He had to wonder if the greasy man had ever even had sex.

Voldemort stroked his chin in thought.

So beautiful, and now he knew the truth.

When he had entered the room, he could tell from the potion bottle on the floor that this was something else. It was the reason he had immediately intruded upon her mind.

He was used to it. Those looked of panic and horror when he surprised someone, letting him know they were hiding something. No one. _No one_, lied to Lord Voldemort.

He knew that Snape had the grandest knowledge of magical creatures not generally known by either the Muggle or wizarding community. He felt weak. They knew. They all knew. He could see it in their eyes. They thought he was slipping. Falling from power over this young girl.

He did not really want to kill her, but he had to for his own good. What if she came to the height of her powers and was able to seduce him? He was Lord Voldemort, correct, but could he withstand the power of a being even greater than his own?

Stepping out into the night, he turned his head sharply.

A Muggle man, coming down the street. The echo of a walking cane accompanied him as he made his way down the cobbled street.

Pulling out his wand, Voldemort pointed it at the man before muttering the killing curse. Green light emitted from his wand, targeting the innocent old man.

He fell to the ground with a thump, and Voldemort stuck his wand in his pocket.

Who was to say that he was not powerful?

* * *

Billie looked at herself in the mirror, tilting her head to the side.

Her dark hair fell in front of her face, and as she looked at the skin of her neck, she noticed a giant black vein beneath her pale skin.

Looking down, she turned her hands to observe her wrists. Indeed, the veins there as well had turned black. Looking back into the mirror, Billie leaned closer to observe any further changes.

Her eyes had darkened immensely, not to mention there was a deathly glow about her skin. To Billie, she had never thought herself unattractive, but she could not deny that there was something that enhanced her features.

Her lips looked redder. Fuller. Other than that, no physical changes had taken place, but she knew that something was different.

Suddenly, the door flew open behind her, and Billie spun around to find Marvolo, standing in the doorway.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, feeling her heartbeat quicken.

He stood for a moment, before closing the door.

"I am here to kill you pet."


	25. The End

**A/N: I DO NOT own any part of Harry Potter. Ah, this has been a fun journey, and here my friends we meet our end. I'm definitely thinking about doing another Voldemort O/C story. Add me under your favorite authors, and you'll find out when. Love you all, enjoy!**

**The End**

"What?" Billie whispered, standing in the room as she gazed upon her lover and his cold eyes.

"You heard me." he whispered softly, taking out his wand and stepping towards her.

Billie froze, watching as he pointed it towards her chest. Looking up at him, she shook her head.

"You wouldn't." she breathed, taking a step backward.

He replied by grabbing her wrist, throwing her back onto the bed harshly. She fell back, feeling the skin sting as he had grabbed it so fiercely. Billie sat on the bed, staring at him.

He had always been cold, but no she saw nothing in his eyes. Nothing but complete hatred. Evil. Contempt. He was actually serious, this was no game. There was not that small twinkle of amusement she always saw.

He pointed his wand at the mirror, and muttered an enchantment that caused it to break free of its mount and soar over to him.

The mirror hovered above the ground, and he pointed his wand at Billie.

"Imperio."

At once, an incredibly delightful feeling came over her. It swept through her bones, urging her to let everything go and do everything that he told her to.

"Look in the mirror." a small voice said far off into the distance, and she turned her head, catching her reflection in the glass.

"My princess..." another voice said, a bit louder and darker than the last.

"Look in the mirror." the voice said again.

"No my love, come back to the world." the darker one plead once more.

"Look in the mirror." the voice said once more, more pronounced.

"Arise my child."

All at once, she fell to the ground, feeling as though she had been possessed by some kind of inhuman force.

She flipped on her back, eyes wide and felt herself slowly lift off the ground.

The air ceased to flow into her lungs, and she inhaled deeply, screaming as her body was filled with a kind of pain she had never experienced before.

It was as though her flesh was being ripped from her skin painfully, each motion slow and purposefully. The pain moved, capturing each and every nerve, moving over every single muscle and traveling further and deeper into her body.

She continued to levitate, rising several my inches before her vision became blurry as her eyes began to roll in the back of her head, and suddenly, she knew.

"Yes." she choked, feeling it take her. Things began to come back, the memories of her life. Her power and glory, taking the souls of men. Hearing the cries of sorrow she left behind, and retuning to a proud and loyal husband.

Yes, she remembered.

The pain subsided, replaced with nothing but pleasure. It moved over her skin, and as she looked down, she saw large black veins protrude from beneath her pale skin.

Tilting, she rotated until she hovered straight above the carpeted ground, before sinking down slowly and landing on her feet.

Beneath her skin, her veins and body continued to tingle pleasurably, and she opened her eyes, before smiling and tilting her head.

Dolor. That was the named bestowed upon her by her master. Not only her master though, her love.

She had come here, to see what it was like to live amongst human beings. After she felt the cold sting of remorse, taking the souls of innocent children.

Now everything was coming back though, and she knew...there was no such thing as innocence.

This world, was covered in death. Decay. Hatred. They did not deserve it, and it were her job to dole out the punishment.

Power. Yes, she had power.

Holding up her hand, she turned looking at the mirror. As she did, she took note of her reflection.

Her skin was darker, her hair, more wild and voluminous. Her eyes were a wild ocher that all but burned into the reflection of the glass. Overall, her entire appearance had changed, to something more...creature like. Something wild and uncontrollable.

Looking down at her hand, she saw black veins beneath her skin which stuck out, leading up her hand to her long fingers, which were now equipped with lengthy nails. Smiling, she looked back up at the mirror.

She flexed her hand, making a fist, and almost instantly, the mirror shattered. The shards of glass all flew into a singular point, hovering above the ground.

"Ah yes." Dolor grinned, and waved her hand.

The shards of glass began to spin around the room in a circle, leaving a vortex where she had her previous lover stood.

He responded by pulling out his wand, pointing it at the shards of glass and muttering something.

The glass turned into sand, falling onto the ground quickly. Dolor turned to him, smiling.

"Oh Marvolo. Dear Marvolo." she cooed, her voice distinguishably deeper.

Walking towards him, she put her hands on his face before pressing her lips to his mouth.

Her nails, dug into his skin and she parted her lips, tasting his essence. Then, inhaling, she did what came naturally.

He gasped, trying to pull away but the connection had been made. Opening her eyes, Dolor watched as she tried to suck his soul, but he simply shuddered. Nothing came out.

Breaking away, she stepped back, taking a moment before grinning.

"Horcruxes. Very good my dear."

He hissed, grabbing her by her neck and clenching his hand, but she disappeared in a black wisp of smoke, reappearing on the other side of the room.

"I cannot believe you made more than one though. Seems a bit excessive don't you think?"

He glared at her, and Dolor smiled, before sighing and walking over to the bed, crossing her long legs.

She had absolute control now, and she loved it. There was nothing he could do. He could not kill her. He could not hurt her. She was powerful. More powerful than a simple wizard ever could be.

"How long ago did you do it?" she asked, turning her head.

"Do what?" he replied with a hiss so violent she thought his skin might actually get some color.

"Purge your body of the soul." she replied, grinning at his anger.

"That does not concern you." he retorted nastily, pointing his wand at her but knowing he could do nothing.

"See, but it does." she replied, standing up and crossing the room. "You see, you have tried to make yourself invincible. Inhuman. Yet you still are slave to the most human trait of all."

"And what is that?"

"Love."

He laughed loudly, a vile and cold laugh that would awake the dead. Dolor narrowed her eyes, stepping closer to him.

"You may not be human but you are still foolish. Lord Voldemort does not love. Lord Voldemort does not know what love is."

"But you do...you love me."

As she said the words, he closed his mouth, meeting her with such a glare she knew it would have killed a weaker being.

"Lie." he sneered.

"It is not. You know what love is. You know it well Tom. You know it, although it is foreign to you. I have seen the way you look at that reptile of yours. She is all but a child to you, you would die before you say her death. Just one part of your lie. I know that you love me. For all those that would say you do not have a heart, I can feel it beating clear as day."

She placed a hand upon his chest, her voice cold and her tone frosty.

He immediately moved from her grip, but not soon enough to feel his heart skip at beat at her touch.

"Do not touch me, you-"

"What? What am I? Stronger than you, that is for certain. You tortured me. You tried to kill me with The Killing Curse. You tortured that savage wolf for having sex with me. Not because you were jealous. Not because you wanted me to belong to only you. No, because...you love me. No matter how much you try and hide it or twist it around any other way. You...love me."

She watched as he absorbed her words, and held back a smile. She knew she had struck gold. As much as he tried to hide it, he was completely in love with her. There was absolutely no doubt about that.

"Return to whatever foul abyss you crawled from, do not every show me your face again."

With that he turned around, but Dolor grabbed one of his sleeves, pulling him back.

"You love me, and I love you. So why not be with me forever?"

"What?" he asked, continuing to back way.

"You're rare gem Tom-"

"_Do not call me that!_" he hissed, but she ignored him and continued.

"A wizard, essentially invincible. We could protect your horcruxes. Ensure that you live forever. My master would forgive you for our...indiscretions. Imagine doing something great. We could be together, forever."

He simply stared at her, and she gave him the dignity of staying out of his mind.

"No." he said quietly, a subtle change in his tone.

"Okay. Okay." she nodded, before taking a step back.

"I have to go Tom."

"No." he whispered again.

This time he grabbed her, pressing his lips to her own.

The kiss was so fierce she was caught off guard, and let him continue before pulling away slightly.

"I must go." she whispered,turning her head but he pulled her back.

"No." he whispered again.

"Let go."

This time he pulled her harshly, throwing her onto the ground.

She rolled on her back, outstretching a hand and he was thrown across the room.

He crashed into the wall and sank to the ground, standing up again and pulling out his wand.

Silently, he muttered the Cruciatus Curse and watched as the light shot from his wand.

Dolor waved her hand, and the curse reflected off of her, shooting across the room.

"STOP IT!" she screamed, flexing her hands.

Voldemort lifted his wand cautiously, waiting for her to say something else, but she did not.

* * *

Instead he stared at her, looking at the criss-cross of black veins concentrated and tangled under her skin just where her heart was.

The curse he knew so well. He had performed it seven times, and it was not until now that he realized how foolish he had been in forgetting it.

Aiming his wand at her chest, he stared intently for one moment before summoning up the courage. His heart was pounding, and a cold put and sunk into his stomach.

But he had to do it.

The words came out of his mouth slowly, and he watched the entire ordeal almost as though outside of his own body.

The purple light jetted from is wand, towards her. He watched her face, as though she had become aware of just what she was doing.

The purple light moved towards the concentration of veins beneath her chest, and melded with the skin after an eternal second.

As the light entered her, she froze for a moment, before sinking to the floor without a sound.

She fell to the ground, twitching. Slowly, a black mist rose from her body, evaporating into the ceiling and Voldemort walked over to her before looking down at her body.

Her eyes were still open, and she was frozen in a position he had seen so many times. Spread-eagle on the ground, he eyes still full of their last sight.

Her soul had nowhere enchanted to go, so it simply vanished. No where to rest. No body or object to occupy. Non-existent.

Grabbing one of her limp hands, Voldemort ran a thumb over her soft skin before pointing his wand at her again.

With a flash of light, her dead body transformed into a black rose, and he picked it up, feeling one of the thorns prick his finger.

"Malfoy Manor." he muttered, looking down at the rose and remembering how many times she said she would like to live there.

If it was the last service he could do her, it would be just that.

Turning, Voldemort shoved the rose into his robes, feeling its thorns prick his skin and closing his eyes as he inhaled deeply, trying to pick up the slightest trace of her scent.

From Earth, he was not able to hear the monstrous scream from the Underworld. He did not hear the Lord of Darkness expel his wrath verbally. He did not think anything of the number of deaths over the next few weeks, which had soared across the world.

He thought only of her. His Billie. His pet. His slave.

His life.

**THE END**


End file.
